w  a  R's 

BRIGHTER 
SIDE 


W3TH  CONTRIBUTIONS 
BY 


^^*€..«^^ 


OTHERS 


1  V 


WAR'S    BRIGHTER   SIDE 


Field-Marshal   EARL   ROBERTS, 

V.  C,  K.  G.,  K.  P.,  G.  C.  B.,  G.  C.  S.  I.,  G.  C.  I.  E. 

COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 


War's  Brighter  Side 

The  Story  of  "  The  Friend  "   Newspaper 

Edited  by  the  Correspondents  with 
Lord   Roberts's  forces,  March- April,  1900 


By 

Julian  Ralph 

(One  of  the  Editors) 

With  contributions  from 

A.  Conan  Doyle,  Rudyard   Kipling,  and  others, 

and  a  letter  from  Earl  Roberts 


m 

\ 

?l2^L 

'm 

^^ 

p 

WITH  FIFTEEN  ILLUSTRATIONS 


New  York 

D.  Appleton  and  Company 

1901 


1?3 


Copyright,  1901, 
By  D.   APPLETON   AND  COMPANY. 

A II  rights  reserved. 


•  •  •  • 

•  •    •  • 

•  •     •   •^ 


••    •  •  -  •  !  •  •   * 


WITH   HIS    KIND   PERMISSION 

THIS     HISTORY 

OF   HIS   UNIQUE  AND    HISTORIC  EXPERIMENT   IN 

PUBLISHING   A   NEWSPAPER    FOR   AN   ARMY   IN   THE   FIELD 

IS     DEDICATED     TO 

Field  Marshal,  EARL  ROBERTS,  K.G.,  K.P.,  V.C. 

Etc. 
COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 


220494 


LETTER  FROM  EARL  ROBERTS 
TO  LORD  STANLEY  REGARD- 
ING  ^'THE  FRIEND" 

Bloemfontein, 

April  13/A,  1900. 

Dear  Lord  Stanley, — I  understand  that 
on  Monday  next,  the  i6th  inst.,  The  Friend 
will  come  under  the  new  management,  and  it 
will,  I  hope,  continue  to  thrive  now  that  it  has 
been  established  on  a  sound  basis. 

The  Army  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  the 
gentlemen  who  so  kindly  came  forward,  and  who 
have  given  their  services  gratuitously  in  the 
management  of  the  paper. 

That  their  labours  are  appreciated  is  evident 
from  the  eagerness  with  which  the  paper  is  pur- 
chased by  officers  and  soldiers  alike. 

On  behalf,  therefore,  of  the  troops,  I  would 
ask  you  to  convey  my  best  thanks  to  all  who 
have  contributed  toward  making  the  paper  such 
a  success,  especially  to  the  following  gentlemen, 
Messrs.  Landon,  Ralph,  Gwynne,  and  Buxton. 
Believe  me  to  be 

Yours  very  truly. 

ROBERTS, 
vii 


PREFACE 


Lord  Roberts  is  the  first  General  of  whom 
I  have  heard  who  ever  recognised  and  acknowl- 
edged the  Value  and  Power  of  the  Press  by  es- 
tablishing a  Newspaper  as  a  source  of  Entertain- 
ment and  Information  for  an  Army  in  the  Field, 
and  as  a  Medium  for  conveying  such  Arguments 
and  Appeals  as  he  wished  to  make  to  the  Enemy. 
This  he  did,  as  one  might  say,  the  instant  he  con- 
quered the  first  of  the  Boer  Capitals,  almost 
simultaneously  with  his  appointment  of  a  Mili- 
tary Governor  and  a  Provost  Marshal,  and  the 
establishment  of  a  Police  Force. 

The  story  of  Lord  Roberts's  experiment  and 
the  Experiences  of  the  Men  he  selected  for  his 
Editors  must  be  especially  attractive  to  all  Jour- 
nalists, and  they  will  find  here  set  forth  whatever 
is  of  purely  professional  interest  to  them.  To 
those  details  I  have  added  the  most  Notable 
Contributions  with  which  each  of  the  twenty- 
seven  Numbers  of  The  Friend  was  made  up, 

ix 


War's  Brighter  Side 

and  here  this  narrow  limitation  of  the  interest  in 
the  book  is  broken  wide  asunder.  These  news- 
paper articles  are  mainly  the  Works  of  Fighting 
Men,  at  rest  between  Battles,  and  of  others  who 
were  at  the  moment  going  to  or  coming  from 
Engagements.  They  hold  the  Mirror  up  to  the 
Life  of  an  Army,  in  Camp,  on  the  March,  in  Bat- 
tle, and  in  a  Conquered  Capital. 

In  these  Letters,  Sketches,  and  Verses  the 
Reader  lives  with  the  Soldiers  in  camp.  He 
sees  what  they  work  and  play  at.  He  hears  of 
their  deeds  of  Daring,  Mishaps  and  Adventures. 
He  catches  their  strange  Lingo.  He  observes 
what  they  Eat — (and  what  they  do  not  get  to 
Drink).  He  notes  how  they  speak  of  their  Far- 
ing in  Battle.  In  all  the  Wealth  of  English  Lit- 
erature I  know  of  no  such  a  Mirror-reflection 
and  a  Phonograph-echoing  of  Soldier  Life  as  is 
here. 

Generals,  Colonels — in  fact,  men  of  every 
rank  and  grade  contributed  their  shares;  of 
every  rank  down  to  "  Tommy  Atkins,"  who,  in 
general,  sings  his  Songs  in  the  background,  in 
verse,  like  the  Chorus  in  an  Ancient  Drama. 

To  these  features  I  have  added  many  Per- 
sonal Recollections,  as  well  as  Anecdotes  and 
Stories  told  by  or  about  the  men  around  me  in 
camp,  and  in  the  conquered  Capital  of  the  Free 
State,  with  Notes  and  Comments  upon  a  wide 

X 


Preface 

variety  of  subjects  suggested  during  the  editing 
of  the  other  Matter  here  collated. 

In  the  Proclamations  of  the  wise  and  great 
Field-Marshal,  and  the  Notices,  Ordinances,  and 
Camp  Orders  of  his  Lieutenants  set  to  rule 
Bloemfontein  after  its  capture  by  us,  are  to  be 
found  an  account  of  the  Methods  by  which  a 
Triumphant  Army  establishes  its  own  new  rule 
in  a  Conquered  City  and  Territory.  This  pe- 
culiar and  most  interesting  history  runs,  like  a 
steel  thread,  through  the  book  from  beginning 
to  end.  I  do  not  know  where  else  it  is  told,  or 
even  hinted  at,  in  what  has  thus  far  been  written 
of  the  War. 

It  was  because  each  of  the  chief  elements  that 
make  up  this  book  of  The  Friend  is  equally 
fresh  and  impossible  to  obtain  elsewhere,  that  I 
undertook  the  labour  of  compiling  this  work. 

It  was  my  first  intention  to  reproduce  all  the 
Reading  Matter  which  appeared  in  The  Friend 
during  the  period  in  which  we  managed  it 
(March  i6th  to  April  i6,  1900)  but  this  would 
have  formed  a  ponderous  book  of  270,000  words 
— without  including  the  Military  Proclamations. 
Such  a  work  could  not  be  produced  for  a  price 
at  the  command  of  the  general  reader,  and,  fur- 
thermore, the  general  reader  would  have  found 
it  too  tiresome  to  work  his  way  through  the 
many  Technical  Articles  and  others  which  time 

xi 


War's  Brighter  Side 

has  rendered  stale  or  of  little  interest.  There- 
fore, not  without  regret,  I  felt  obliged  to  select, 
as  my  best  judgment  prompted,  the  matter  of 
the  Most  Peculiar  character,  or  of  Widest  Inter- 
est for  reproduction  here. 

As  the  former  Editors  of  The  Friend  have 
now  formed  themselves  into  an  Order  to  which 
none  is  eligible  except  he  or  she  who  tells  the 
truth  without  fear  of  consequences,  the  reader 
may  as  well  prepare  himself  to  meet  with  that 
rare  quality  in  some  of  the  pages  that  follow. 

The  Author. 


Xll 


CONTENTS 


I.— The  Birth  of  "  The  Friend  "  .        .       .        i 
Showing  how  it  was  Fathered  by  a  Field  Marshal, 
sponsored  by  a  Duke  and  three  Lords,  and  given 
over  to  four  certificated  male  nurses. 

II.— Its  Infancy 15 

A  little  Thing,  puling  Great  Promises  in  its  Nurses' 
Arms. 

III.— Mr.  Kipling  makes  His  First  Appear- 
ance      33 

A  Costly  Sheet — Lines  by  Kipling — The  Steynless 
City — ^A  Love  Letter — Exciting  Experiences. 

IV.— We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home     ...      47 
A  Strange   Editorial   Adventure — Lord   Roberts's 
New  Government  under  Way — The  Sin  of  Horse 
Theft. 

V. — Sentry  Stories 73 

Obnoxious  Natives — The  Australian  Correspond- 
ent— More  Love  Letters. 

VI. — Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses       ...      95 

Kipling's  regard  for  "  Tommy  Poetry  " — Our  Eng- 
lish as  it  was  set  up  by  Boer  compositors. 

VII. — RuDYARD  Kipling,  Associate  Editor     .    115 

A  chapter  which  introduces  a  Prince,  and  tells  of 
our  Appeal  to  the  whole  Army  to  write  for  The 
Friend. 

xiii 


War's  Brighter  Side 

CHAPTER  PAGB 

VIII. — Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters      .        ..    130 

Like  a  beehive  for  industry  when  Rudyard  Kip- 
ling went  to  lunch  with  the  Field- Marshal. 

IX.— "Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!"      .       .       .154 
All  Ranks  join  our  Corps  of  Contributors,  and  the 
Paper  Sparkles. 

X. — I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein     .        .       .    184 

And  shall  here  discuss  her,  Mr.   Kipling,  Lord 
Stanley,  and  our  own  behaviour. 

XL— Our  Very  Mixed  Public.        .        .       .    206 

A  Study  of  Tommy  Atkins,  the  Inscrutable — Our 
Dutch  Compositors  Arraigned. 

XII.— "  Vive  la  Compagnie"      .        .        .        .227 
Four  Correspondents  dine  the  General,  the  Gov- 
ernor, and  Rudyard  Kipling,  and  Produce  The 
Friend  as  well. 

XIII.— We    Leave    "The    Friend"  to  See  a 

Fight 249 

The  Thirteenth  Number,  produced  by  Mr.  James 
Barnes  of  New  York. 

XIV.— My  Horse  Offered  For  Sale         .        .    268 
Kipling  at  last  writes  something  that  pleases  the 
Boers — A  Predikant's  letter. 

XV. — Contributions  from  Kipling         .        .    281 

XVI. — Our  Loss  and  the  Army's      .        .        .    295 
The   Departure    of    Mr.    Kipling   leaving   The 
Friend  vigorous  with  the  Impetus  he  gave  it. 

XVII. — Lord  Stanley,  Journalist     .        .        .    307 

XVIII. — Our  Christening  Competition      .        .    314 

I  declare  the  Original  War  ended  and  a  New  One 
begun — Enteric's  ravages. 

xiv 


Contents 


CHAPTER 

XIX.— Fooled  by  the  Boers  .... 
British  Leniency  and  Credulity  abused  Past 
Endurance. 


PAGB 


349 


XX.— Dr.  a.  Conan  Doyle  Contributes  . 
And  this  suggests  a  few  remarks  about  the  much- 
discussed  Treatment  of  our  Sick. 

XXI.— Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes       .       .        .363 
A  chapter  in  which  we  also  tell  of  a  modest 
Prince  and  a  gallant  Adventurer. 

XXII.— In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post       .    377 
We  try  to  Name  the  New  Colony,  and  describe 
the  Kornespruit  Fight. 

XXIII.— A  Complete  Newspaper       .        .        .395 
Full  of  matter  no  longer  a  tenth  as  interesting 
as  there  and  then. 

XXIV.— False  Hearts  Around  Us   .        .       .    400 
Where  only  the  Women  were  frank — The  art 
of  the  War  Artist. 

XXV.— The  End  Approaches    .       .        .        .412 
We  arrange  to  retire  from  our  posts,  but  also 
start  a  Portrait  Gallery. 

XXVI. — Wanted,  a  Millionaire       .        .        .    423 
A  number  as  sparkling  as  a  string  of  jewels — 
Joke  Portrait  Number  Two. 

XXVII.— A  Notable  Number        .        .        .        .438 
Captain    Cecil    Lowther  joins    the   Wits   and 
Poets  again.     A  Report  by  Mr.  Jenkins,  who 
was  "  our  Staff  in  himself." 

XXVIII. — "  Our  Friend  "  no  Longer  .        .        .    452 
We  retire  from  the  paper,  leaving  it  in  able 
and  patriotic  hands. 

XXIX, — Adieu  to  "  The  Friend  "...    465 

XV 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PAGB 

Earl   Roberts Frontispiece 

Lord  Stanley  at  work  as  Censor 7 

The  Editors  in  their  Office     ,         .         .         .         .         .16 

The  Capitulation  of  Bloemfontein          ....  71 

A  Corrected  "Proof"  by  Rudyard  Kipling.         .         .  96 

Miss  Bloemfontein 185 

Menu  of  a  notable  Dinner 230 

Julian  Ralph  and  his  horse  '*  Rattlesnake  "          .         .  269 

The  Front  Page  of  "The  Friend"  of  April  4,  1900    .  314 

A  Page  of  Conan  Doyle's  "Copy"       ....  350 

Julian  Ralph 454 


xvu 


WAR'S    BRIGHTER    SIDE 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Birth  of  "  The  Friend  " 

Showing  how  it  was  Fathered  by  a  Field  Marshal, 
sponsored  by  a  Duke  and  three  Lords,  and  given 
over  to  four  certificated  male  nurses 

We  reached  Bloemfontein  with  men  who  had 
done  extraordinary  marching,  fighting,  and  feats 
of  exposure  and  privation.  Some  of  the  troops, 
notably  the  Guards,  had  walked  more  than  thirty 
miles  in  one  of  the  three  days'  continuous  march- 
ing. Many  had  fought  at  Jacobsdahl,  Paarde- 
berg,  and  Dreefontein,  not  to  speak  of  lesser 
actions  at  Waterval  Drift  and  Poplar  Grove. 

During  at  least  the  last  week  of  this  almost 
unprecedented  military  performance  the  army 
had  been  reduced  to  less  than  half  rations.  We 
were  very  short  of  food  for  beasts  as  well  as  men. 
We  had  lost  a  large  number  of  transport  wag- 
gons, with  their  contents  and  the  animals  that 
drew  them,  and  we  had  put  the  torch  to  two 

I 


War's  Brighter  Side 

great  hillocks  of  food  which  we  could  not  take 
with  us  beyond  Paardeberg.  All  our  four-footed 
helpers  were  spent,  hundreds  of  horses  were  ill, 
hundreds  of  bodies  of  others  were  lying  along  our 
wake  upon  the  veldt,  with  flocks  of  glutted,  yet 
still  gluttonous,  aasvogels  feeding  upon  their 
flesh. 

Worse,  far  worse  than  all  else  combined,  the 
dreadful  microbes  of  enteric  had  entered  the 
blood  of  thousands  of  the  soldiers,  who  had 
found  no  other  water  to  drink  than  that  of  the 
pestilential  Modder  River  which  carried  along 
and  absorbed  the  bodies  of  men  and  horses  as 
well  as  the  filth  of  the  camps  of  both  the  Boers 
and  ourselves. 

We  had  done  as  the  Boers  had  said  we  never 
would  do — as  only  one  man  of  their  forces  (Ville- 
bois-Mareuil)  had  foreseen  that  a  great  general 
like  Lord  Roberts  must  be  certain  to  do:  we  had 
left  the  railway  and  swept  across  the  open  veldt 
for  one  hundred  miles,  from  Jacobsdahl  and  Kim- 
berley  to  Bloemfontein.  For  warning  his  cruel 
and  foul-mouthed  commander-in-chief,  Cronje, 
that  we  would  do  this,  Cronje  insulted  the  bril- 
liant Frenchman  grossly,  and  bade  him  keep  his 
idiotic  notions  to  himself.  But  we  had  done  it, 
and  Cronje  had  lost  his  army  and  his  liberty  for 
failing  to  heed  the  warning.  At  Bloemfontein 
we  came  upon  the  steam  highway  once  more, 

2 


The  Birth  of  "The  Friend" 

but  to  the  south  of  Bloemfontein  it  was  wrecked 
at  many  points,  while  to  the  northward  it  was  in 
the  enemy's  country  and  control. 

There  was  therefore  nothing  for  us  but  to 
rest.  Yet  how  heroically  we  had  worked  to 
make  rest  necessary!  How  well  we  had  earned 
the  right  to  enjoy  rest  if  we  had  been  of  the 
temper  to  desire  it!  In  one  month  under  the 
great  Field  Marshal  we  had  gone  further  and 
accompHshed  more  than  all  the  other  British 
armies  had  done  in  nearly  six  months.  We  had 
won  over  the  eagles  of  victory  to  perch  upon  our 
standards.  We  had  freed  Ladysmith  and  Kim- 
berley,  drawn  the  Boers  away  from  the  Cape 
Colony  border,  captured  the  best  army  and  lead- 
ing general  of  our  foes,  and  were  encamped 
around  Bloemfontein  with  President  Steyn's 
Residency  in  use  as  our  headquarters. 

The  manner  in  which  four  of  the  war  cor- 
respondents first  learned  that  we  were  not  to 
push  on  to  the  northward  in  an  effort  to  seize 
the  Transvaal  capital,  but  were  to  halt  at  Bloem- 
fontein, was  most  peculiar.  It  was  so  peculiar 
as  to  have  led  to  the  establishment  of  the  first 
newspaper  ever  conducted  by  an  army  for  an 
army  on  the  field  of  battle.  It  was  so  unique 
an  episode  that  this  volume  is  pubHshed  to  com- 
memorate and  explain  it;  and  I  trust  that  no 
one  who  reads  this  will  decide  that  it  was  not  an 

3 


War's  Brighter  Side 

episode  worthy  of  an  even  more  marked,  sub- 
stantial, and  valuable  memorial  than  I  possess 
the  talent  to  coustruct. 

We  entered  Bloemfontein  on  March  13th. 
Two  days  later  I  was  asked  by  Mr.  F.  W.  Bux- 
ton, of  the  Johannesburg  Star,  to  attend  a  meet- 
ing of  some  other  correspondents  and  Lord 
Stanley  in  Lord  Stanley's  office  on  that  day.  I 
had  caught  up  with  the  army  by  a  dangerous 
journey  with  only  two  companions  across  the 
veldt  from  Kimberley,  where  an  injury  to  my 
leg  had  laid  me  up.  I  had  reported  myself  to 
Lord  Stanley,  the  censor.  I  had  previously  car- 
ried on  some  correspondence  with  him,  but  our 
personal  acquaintance  had  not  been  of  more  than 
five  minutes'  duration.  I  could  not,  therefore, 
know  at  that  time  that  he  was  to  prove  himself 
the  most  competent  of  all  the  censors  appointed 
to  supervise  the  work  of  us  correspondents.  In 
saying  that  he  was  the  ''  most  competent  "  I 
mean  that  he  ranked  above  all  the  others  in 
every  quality  which  goes  to  make  up  fitness  for 
this  unceasing  and  exacting  work.  He  had 
quick  intelligence,  great  breadth  of  judgment, 
unfailing  courtesy,  unbroken  patience,  and  all 
the  modesty  of  a  truly  able  man. 

Hardly  can  the  average  reader  estimate  the 
degree  of  satisfaction  with  which  we  correspond- 
ents came  quickly  to  realise  the  admirable  quali- 

4 


The  Birth  of  "The  Friend" 

ties  of  this  first  and  only  fair  and  considerate 
censor  that  most  of  us  had  known  in  the  war. 
At  one  place  we  knew  a  censor  who  read  the 
letters  which  came  to  officers  and  privates  from 
their  wives  in  England,  and  who  used  to  regale 
his  chance  acquaintances  with  comparisons  be- 
tween the  sterUng  virtues  and  deep  affection  of 
the  letters  to  Tommy,  and  the  colder,  more  self- 
ish, and  even  querulous  messages  of  the  wives  of 
officers. 

At  another  place  we  had  a  censor  who  obliged 
us  to  hand  to  him  our  letters  to  our  wives 
and  sweethearts  unsealed,  and  in  one  case  this 
censor  kept  for  twenty-four  hours  a  letter  I  had 
written  to  my  family. 

Still  another  censor  showered  his  contempt 
upon  certain  correspondents  who,  in  every  way 
which  goes  to  make  up  refinement,  self-respect, 
and  dignity,  were  many  times  better  men  than 
he.  It  amused  him  to  take  the  despatches  of  a 
Colonial  lad,  who  was  doing  his  best  to  enter 
upon  an  honourable  career,  and  throw  them  in 
his  waste  basket  daily  for  ten  days  without  in- 
forming the  youth  of  their  fate.  It  pleased  him 
to  insult  me  by  telling  me  that  the  only  message 
I  could  send  to  England  must  be  a  description 
of  a  sandstorm;  while  to  Mr.  E.  F.  Knight,  a 
man  Lord  Methuen  said  he  "  was  proud  to  have 
with  his  army,"  this  censor  said,  "  There  is  only 

5 


War's  Brighter  Side 

one  thing  I  will  allow  you  to  write — that  is,  a 
description  of  a  new  Union  Jack  which  has  just 
been  run  up  over  the  headquarters." 

With  such  ill-chosen,  mistaken  men  had  we 
undergone  experiences,  and  now,  at  last,  we  met 
with  Lord  Stanley,  who,  having  been  born  with 
the  attributes  of  a  gentleman,  never  could  forget 
them;  who  had  the  most  intense  likes  and  dis- 
likes for  those  around  him,  yet  never  let  these 
hinder  or  temper  his  unvarying  fairness;  who  was 
as  firm  as  iron  and  yet  always  gentle;  a  stout, 
strong,  stalwart  man  in  build,  hearty  and  kindly 
in  manner;  a  man  who  took  command  as  easily 
and  exercised  it  as  smoothly  as  if  he  had  been 
a  general  at  birth. 

I  speak  of  him  at  some  length  not  merely 
because  his  case  proves  that  the  one  well- 
equipped  censor  appointed  in  the  armies  on  the 
west  side  of  the  continent  was  a  civilian,  and  not 
only  because  this  one  competent  censor  gave 
equally  complete  satisfaction  to  both  the  Army 
and  the  Press,  but  because  he  assumed  a  con- 
spicuous and  important  part  in  the  story  I  am 
telling. 

His  ofifice  was  as  nearly  literally  a  hole  in  a 
wall  as  a  room  in  a  house  could  well  be.  It  was 
in  the  corner  of  the  Free  State  Post  Office  build- 
ing, facing  the  great  central  square  of  dirt,  in  the 
middle  of  which  stood  the  market,  under  whose 

6 


Mr.  Ralph, 

Mr.  Scull,  of  Chicago. 

Mr.  Buxton,  of  The  Friend, 
are  the  three  men  behind  the  Censor. 


Mr.  Pearse,  Morning  Post. 
Mr.  Bennett  Burleigh, 
Daily  Telegraph. 


W.  B.  Wollen, 
R.I. 


Mr.  Maxwell, 

of  the  Standard. 


Mr.  Melton  Prior. 

Mr.  Rennet, 
of  '■  Laffan's  Bureau. 


Lord  Stanley  Censoring  Reports  of  a  Battle. 
Photographed  by  H.  Mackern,  of  Scribner's  Magazine. 


The  Birth  of  "The  Friend" 

Open  shed  the  mounted  men  of  the  City  Imperial 
Volunteers  lived  among  their  saddles  and  bridles, 
and  slept  on  the  tables  of  the  greengrocers, 
whose  place  this  once  had  been.  On  the  Post 
Office  side  of  the  square  was  the  Free  State 
Hotel,  the  best  in  the  town.  On  the  opposite 
side,  an  eighth  of  a  mile  away,  was  the  Club. 
Between  the  two  ends  ran  a  double  row  of  such 
shops  as  one  looks  for  in  a  small  village,  and 
behind  one  of  these  was  the  office  of  a  newspaper 
called  The  Friend  of  the  Free  State. 

Lord  Stanley's  office  was  a  wretched  poke- 
hole  of  a  room.  It  boasted  a  door  with  glass 
panels  and  no  window.  Its  floor  was  of  bare 
boards.  Its  walls  were  partly  made  of  soiled 
plaster  and  partly  of  bare  boards.  Opposite  the 
door,  in  the  corner,  stood  a  kitchen  table  which 
was  never  used,  and  in  the  other  dark  end  of  the 
room  was  another  kitchen  table,  behind  which, 
on  a  kitchen  chair,  the  ex-Guardsman  and  Whip 
of  the  Unionist  Party  sat  nearly  all  day,  and  some 
hours  of  every  evening,  with  one  hand  full  of 
manuscript  and  the  other  holding  the  little  tri- 
angular stamp  with  which  he  printed  the  sign 
manual  of  his  approval  upon  nearly  every  de- 
spatch which  was  written  by  those  correspond- 
ents who  kept  within  the  law  governing  the 
cabling  of  news  to  their  journals.  A  kerosene 
lamp,  an  inkpot  and  pen,  and  a  litter  of  papers 

7 


War's  Brighter  Side 

were  the  other  appointments  of  the  room.  The 
censor  was  clad  in  khaki  Hke  all  the  rest  of  us, 
but  the  collar  of  his  tunic  bore  on  each  side  the 
short  bit  of  red  cloth  which  marked  him  as  a 
staff  officer. 

To  this  office,  at  the  censor's  invitation,  came 
Percival  Landon,  correspondent  of  the  Times,  H. 
A.  Gwynne,  of  Renter's  Agency,  F.  W.  Buxton, 
of  the  Johannesburg  Star,  and  myself. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Lord  Stanley  after  the 
door  had  been  closed  and  locked  to  keep  out  the 
current  of  "  Tommies  "  with  telegrams  which 
flowed  in  and  eddied  before  the  desk  all  day, 
*'  Lord  Roberts  wants  to  have  a  daily  newspaper 
published  for  the  entertainment  and  information 
of  the  Army  while  we  are  here.  I  may  tell  you 
that  we  are  likely  to  stay  here  four  weeks.  You 
four  are  asked  to  undertake  the  work  of  bring- 
ing out  the  newspaper.    Will  you  do  it?  " 

Three  of  us  did  not  clearly  see  how  we  could 
undertake  so  laborious  and  exacting  a  task  and 
still  do  justice  to  our  newspapers  at  home;  nev- 
ertheless, the  censor's  words  had  been,  "  Lord 
Roberts  wants  this." 

"  We  must  do  it  if  Lord  Roberts  desires  it," 
was  the  reply  of  one  of  us.  The  rest  nodded 
acquiescence,  but  said  nothing. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  the  censor  replied. 

Mr.  Buxton,  who  knew  South  Africa  and  its 
8 


The  Birth  of  "The  Friend" 

Press  very  well,  appeared  to  have  devoted  some 
attention  to  the  matter  earlier  in  the  day.  From 
him  and  from  the  censor  we  learned  that  two 
daily  newspapers  had  been  published  in  Bloem- 
fontein  up  to  the  time  that  we  took  possession 
of  the  town.  One  was  the  Express,  the  property 
of  the  widow  of  one  Borckenhagen — a  Boer 
organ  of  the  most  pronounced  type,  and  notori- 
ous for  the  virulence  of  its  attacks  upon  the 
British,  for  its  lying  reports,  and  its  mischievous 
influence.  That  paper  had  been  stopped  by  Lord 
Roberts,  and  its  machinery,  type,  and  all  else 
belonging  to  it  were  for  us  to  do  with  it  as  we 
pleased. 

The  other  paper  was  the  little  Friend  of  the 
Free  State,  owned,  as  I  understand,  by  an  Eng- 
lishman named  Barlow,  who  was  out  of  the 
country  and  had  left  the  property  in  the  care  of 
his  son.  This  younger  Barlow  had  not  con- 
ducted the  paper  in  such  a  spirit  toward  us  as 
one  would  have  looked  for  from  a  man  of  English 
blood;  but,  either  for  good  cause,  worldly  in- 
terests, or  wholly  despicable  reasons,  there  was 
so  much  disloyalty  and  so  much  more  of  fence 
straddling  throughout  South  Africa  that  a  very 
lenient  view  was  taken  of  this  case,  and  we  were 
asked  to  find  out  what  sum  of  money  would 
satisfy  Barlow  for  the  loss  of  income  from  his 
paper  while  we  conducted  it.    He  was  to  be  told 

9 


War's  Brighter  Side 

that  he  could  not  be  permitted  to  continue  his 
editorship,  and  that  therefore  it  was  necessary  to 
settle  on  some  figure  covering  any  shrinkage  that 
might  occur  in  his  customary  profits  while  the 
newspaper  was  in  our  charge. 

Mr.  Buxton  was  appointed  to  confer  with 
Barlow,  and  in  a  few  hours  we  all  met  again  to 
hear  that  the  dethroned  editor  would  be  satisfied 
with  a  guarantee  of  £200,  or  £40  a  week  during 
the  month  of  our  editorship. 

"  We  ought  not  to  be  at  any  risk  of  having 
to  pay  this  sum,"  said  Mr.  Landon.  ''  If  we  give 
our  time  to  the  work  cannot  the  Government 
assume  the  responsibility  for  the  money?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  censor,  "  you  cannot  be  al- 
lowed to  lose  anything  by  your  kindness.  Two 
hundred  pounds  will  be  the  utmost  cost,  eh? 
Well,  I  think  that  Westminster,  Dudley,  and  I, 
can  raise  that  between  us." 

We  held  our  breaths  for  a  moment  as  he  said 
this,  for  it  flashed  upon  us  that  the  heir  of  Lord 
Derby,  the  owner  of  the  great  Dudley  estates, 
and  the  greatest  landlord  of  London,  were  to  be 
our  backers,  that  they  were  high  up  among  the 
richest  men  of  England,  and  that  one  of  them 
was  saying  he  was  hopeful  that  among  all  three 
two  hundred  pounds  might  not  prove  an  impos- 
sible sum  to  raise. 

"Yes,  that's  all  right,"  Lord  Stanley  re- 
10 


The  Birth  of  "The  Friend" 

peated;  "  I  think  that  Dudley,  Westminster,  and 
I  can  manage  it." 

The  reader  will  not  be  prepared  to  hear  that 
anything  funnier  than  that  could  grow  out  of 
this  situation.  But  it  was  to  be  so.  Weeks  after 
our  singular  editorial  experience  ended  I  re- 
ceived, while  in  Capetown,  a  letter  from  an 
interested  Afrikander  asking  me  whether  I 
thought  the  three  men  who  guaranteed  Barlow 
against  a  loss  of  profits  from  his  paper  were  re- 
sponsible men,  and  Barlow  would  be  likely  to 
get  his  forty  pounds! 

I  went  away  to  nurse  my  injured  leg,  and  the 
other  editors  went  their  ways  to  arrange  for  get- 
ting out  a  new  paper,  which  all  of  us  agreed 
should  be  christened  with  the  now  historic  name 
of  The  Friend.  While  we  are  thus  separated 
from  them  let  me  draw  a  pen  picture  of  each. 

Percival  Landon,  representing  the  Times,  is 
a  university  man,  who  has  been  admitted  to  the 
bar,  and  who  took  up  the  work  of  a  war  corre- 
spondent from  an  Englishman's  love  of  adven- 
ture, danger,  and  excitement.  It  can  be  noth- 
ing but  his  English  blood  that  prompted  him  to 
this  course,  for  in  mind  and  temperament,  tastes 
and  qualifications,  he  is  at  once  a  scholar  and  a 
poet  rather  than  a  man  of  violent  action.  Had 
the  Times  so  desired  he  would  have  charmed  the 
public  with  letters  from  the  front  as  human  and 

II 


War's  Brighter  Side 

picturesque  in  subject  and  treatment  as  any  that 
were  sent  to  London.  His  charms  of  manner 
and  of  mind  caused  his  companionship  to  be 
sought  by  the  most  distinguished  and  the  most 
poHshed  men  in  the  army,  and  all  were  deeply 
sorry  when,  at  the  close  of  the  army's  stay  in 
Bloemfontein,  illness  forced  him  to  return  to 
London,  though  not  until  he  had  served  in  the 
war  as  long  as  any  man  at  that  time  on  the  west 
side  of  the  continent. 

Mr.  H.  A.  Gwynne,  representing  Renter's 
Agency,  is  a  veteran  war  correspondent,  though 
a  young  man  otherwise.  He  is  Landon's  dia- 
metrical opposite,  being  above  all  else  a  man  of 
action  and  a  born  soldier.  As  an  author  and  as 
a  mountain  climber  of  distinction  he  was  known 
before  he  adopted  the  profession  of  journalism 
and  took  part  in,  I  think,  ten  campaigns:  The 
Turko-Greek,  the  Omdurman  campaign,  the 
Egyptian  campaign  preceding  it,  and  others.  It 
was  Gwynne  who,  with  Mr.  George  W.  Steevens, 
received  the  surrender  of  the  Volo  from  the 
Greek  authorities  before  the  Turks  entered  the 
town.  Mr.  Gwynne  has  superabundant  strength, 
health,  and  spirits,  loves  soldiering  and  adven- 
ture, and  is  so  shrewd  in  his  judgment  of  men, 
and  practised  in  his  observations  of  war,  that 
more  than  one  general  made  it  a  practice  to  con- 
sult him  upon  what  he  knew  and  saw  during  the 

12 


The  Birth  of  "  The  Friend  " 

South  African  campaign.  How  well  he  can  write 
the  pages  of  The  Friend  attest. 

Mr.  Buxton  is  a  specialist  in  the  interests 
which  are  uppermost  in  Johannesburg,  where,  as 
a  member  of  the  staff  of  the  Star,  and  as  a  citizen 
of  consequence,  he  has  made  himself  intimately 
known  to  the  forceful  men  of  South  Africa,  and 
has  mastered  the  problems  that  He  before  the 
British  in  reconstructing  the  government  and 
welding  the  two  leading  races  together.  He  had 
accompanied  Lord  Methuen's  unfortunate  army 
from  its  start  to  its  rescue  by  Lord  Roberts,  and 
during  all  that  time  his  knowledge  of  the  country 
and  of  the  Boers  might  have  been  turned  to  good 
account  had  he  been  consulted.  It  was  fitting 
that  the  staff  of  the  newspaper  should  have 
had  upon  it  a  representative  colonial  of  English 
stock,  yet  of  long  and  masterful  local  experience 
such  as  Mr.  Buxton. 

For  a  striking  picture  of  the  minor  characters 
who  figured  as  our  foremen  and  compositors  in 
the  newspaper  office  the  reader  will  do  well  to 
read  Rudyard  Kipling's  ''  A  Burgher  of  the  Free 
State,"  one  of  the  short  stories  he  wrote  after  his 
return  from  South  Africa  in  the  early  summer 
of  1900. 

It  showed  us  associates  of  the  master  story- 
teller how  instantly,  broadly,  and  accurately  he 
is  able  to  imbibe  and  absorb  the  colour  and  spirit, 

13 


War's  Brighter  Side 

and  even  the  most  minor  accessories  of  any  new 
and  strong  situation  around  him.  It  will  show 
the  reader  better  than  any  amount  of  another 
man's  writing  the  characters  of  our  helpmeets 
and  neighbours,  and  the  atmosphere  in  which 
they  moved. 


14 


CHAPTER  II 

Its  Infancy 

A  little  Thing,  puling  Great  Promises  in  its  Nnrses* 
Arms 

On  March  i6,  1900,  there  glimmered  (it  can- 
not be  said  to  have  flashed)  upon  the  Army  and 
the  half-wondering,  half-treacherous  population 
of  Bloemfontein,  the  first  number  of  The 
Friend.  It  was  produced  in  the  office  of  the 
former  Friend  of  the  Free  State — an  office  that 
had  the  appearance  of  having  been  arranged  out 
of  a  dust-heap,  and  stocked  with  machinery,  type, 
and  furniture  that  had  been  originally  bought  at 
second-hand  and  left  to  itself  through  fifty  years 
of  frequent  dust-storms. 

Everything  in  it  was  either  the  colour  of  dirt 
or  the  tone  of  type-dust — everything,  including 
the  window-panes  and  the  printers.  Of  the  latter 
we  never  knew  the  number,  names,  or  characters. 
Only  one  gnomish  man  ever  appeared  at  large 
out  upon  the  uncharted  floor  of  the  composing- 
room,  and  he  was  elderly  and  silent — a  man 
3  15 


War's  Brighter  Side 

grown  mechanical,  and  now  making  but  a  feeble 
fight  against  the  dirt  and  type-dust  which  was 
slowly  covering  him  in  what  was  apparently  to  be 
another  such  upright  tomb  as  held  the  last  of  the 
wife  of  Lot.  He  sometimes  came  into  the  edi- 
torial dust-hole — if  we  yelled  and  stamped  our 
loudest  and  our  longest.  He  came  wearily  and 
softly,  heard  our  orders,  and  vanished  in  the 
type-dust  as  we  used  to  see  our  army  friends 
at  Modder  step  out  of  our  tents  into  a  dust-devil 
and  disappear  on  the  ocean  of  veldt  and  at  high 
noon. 

The  other  printers  lived  in  the  little  side  alleys 
between  the  rows  of  type-cases.  They  were  evi- 
dently drawn  there  by  the  feeble,  straggling  light 
that  still  shone  faintly  through  the  filth  upon  the 
window-panes.  I  judged  that  they  were  older 
than  the  foreman,  and  too  feeble,  too  nearly  en- 
tombed by  the  dirt,  to  be  able  to  go  out  upon 
the  floor.  We  only  got  glimpses  of  them,  and 
never  heard  one  speak. 

Out  in  the  back  yard,  behind  Barlow's  sta- 
tionery shop,  the  sun  glared  fierce  and  hot  upon 
a  strip  of  desert  ground,  a  blue  gum-tree,  and  a 
preternatural  boy.  He  lived  out  there,  refusing 
to  be  drawn  into  the  dust-heap  until  the  awful 
sentence  of  serving  as  a  printer  should,  at  last,  be 
read  out  to  him.  We  had  a  fancy  that  each  of 
the  old  men  inside  had  begun  like  that  boy,  cling- 

i6 


Julian  Ralph.        Perceval  Landon. 


H.  A.  Gwynne.  Rudyard  Kipling. 

The  Editors  in  their  Office. 
Photographed  by  H.  Mackern,  of  Scribner's  Magazine. 


Its  Infancy 


ing  as  long  as  possible  to  the  region  of  air  and 
light,  that  each  in  his  turn  had  been  sucked  in 
at  last,  and  that  it  was  this  last  boy  who  went  in 
at  lunch  time  and  led  the  old  fellows  out  of  their 
soUtary,  silent  cells,  and  gave  each  a  push  in  the 
back  to  start  them  toward  their  homes. 

How  Messrs.  Gwynne,  Buxton,  and  Landon 
managed  to  get  out  the  first  paper,  which  they 
forgot  to  mark  with  what  a  great  man  once  said 
were  "  the  saddest  words  ever  seen  in  print," 
that  is  to  say,  "Vol.  I.,  No.  i.,"  I  never  asked 
them,  though  I  wondered.  They  did  produce  it, 
however,  and  called  it 


Playing  Cards.  )    THE     FRIEND.    (  C"©  Tips 
All  Qualities  at  [•  ]        Wafers 

Barlow's.       )    3d.  3d.  (    at  Barlow 


Cue  Tips  and 
Wafers 
Barlow'St 


VOL.  IV.  NO.  1,027. 

Its  sheet  was  of  the  size  of  two  copies  of  the 
Spectator  laid  side  by  side.  Each  of  its  four  pages 
measured  twenty  inches  long  by  fifteen  wide. 
Far  more  striking  than  its  title  was  this  sentence, 
in  blackest  type:  "  If  you  once  use  Vereeniging 
coal  you  will  never  use  any  other."  All  the  ad- 
vertisements, except  the  very  many  scattered 
about  for  Barlow's  stationery  business,  and  for 
which  I  hope  he  was  made  to  pay  at  the  highest 
rates,  were  old  notices  carried  on  from  the  days 
of  Boer  rule. 

17 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Upon  the  second  page  two  advertisements 
were  brand  new.  They  were  proclamations 
signed  "  By  order,  G.  T.  Pretyman,  Major-Gen- 
eral,  Military  Commandant,  Bloemfontein." 
One  was  in  the  Taal  language,  the  other  was  in 
English,  and  both  announced  that  a  market 
would  be  held  daily,  near  the  town,  for  the  sale 
of  such  local  produce  as  butter,  eggs,  milk, 
poultry,  and  vegetables.  The  prices  to  be 
charged  were  laid  down  by  this  sapient  and  enter- 
prising general,  who  declared  eggs  to  be  worth 
two  shillings  a  dozen,  milk  fivepence  a  bottle, 
turkeys  five  shillings  and  sixpence  and  higher, 
butter  two  shillings  a  pound,  &c.  The  English 
proclamation  was  headed  *'  Notice.''  The  Dutch 
copy  bore  the  title  "  Kennisgeving,"  and  was 
signed,  "  Bij  order,  G.  T.  Pretyman,  Majoor- 
Generaal,  Krijgs-Kommandant  van  Bloemfon- 
tein." 

On  the  third,  or  editorial  page,  was  another 
military  notice  entitled  "  Army  Orders,"  which 
I  reprint  in  full,  as  showing  how  almost  instantly 
Lord  Roberts  established  his  own  rule  in  the 
conquered  capital.  General  Pretyman's  market 
notice  was  dated  the  day  we  took  the  town,  and 
we  knew  that  on  that  day  a  local  police  force  was 
established,  headquarters  and  quarters  for  all  the 
branches  of  the  military  rule  were  at  once  set 
up,  and  here  on  the  15th  there  had  been  found 

18 


Its  Infancy 

time  to  arrange  and  prepare  for  publication  a 
directory  of  the  new  arrangements. 


ARMY    ORDERS— SOUTH    AFRICA 

Army  Headquarters,  Government  House, 
Bloemfontein,  March  15,  1900. 

I.  Civil  Population  to  be  unmolested. 

It  being  desirable  and  in  the  interest  of  both  the 
British  Government  and  the  inhabitants  of  this 
country  that  all  residents  should  be  assured  that  so 
long  as  they  remain  peaceably  disposed  their  civil 
rights  and  property  will  be  respected,  it  is  strictly 
forbidden  that  any  private  property  should  be  com- 
pulsorily  taken  possession  of  by  other  than  the  au- 
thorised Supply  Officers. 

All  articles  required  by  the  troops  must  be  ob- 
tained and  paid  for  in  the  ordinary  way,  and  no  tres- 
passing or  interference  with  the  inhabitants  will  be 
permitted. 

These  instructions  apply  to  detached  bodies  of 
troops  as  well  as  to  the  Force  generally,  and  it  is 
specially  the  duty  of  all  officers  to  put  a  stop  to  all 
attempts  to  infringe  them. 

By  order, 

J.  W.  Kelly, 

A.G.  for  C.  of  Staff. 


19 


At  Government 
House. 

At  Government 
Buildings. 


War's  Brighter  Side 

6.  Office  of  Departments. 

The  offices  of  the  various  Departments  are  situ- 
ated as  shown  below : — 

Military  Secretary 

Chief  of  Stafif 

G.O.C.  Royal  Artillery 

Chief  Engineer 

Director  of  Transport 

Director  of  Supplies 

Provost  Marshal 

P.M.O.  3,  Maitland  Street. 

The  office  of  the  Press  Censor  is  established  next 
door  to  the  entrance  to  the  Telegraph  Office.  All 
telegrams  except  official  ones  must  be  censored. 
Office  hours  from  7  to  8  a.m.,  10  a.m.  to  12  noon, 
3  to  5  p.m. 

7.  Supply  Department. 

As  soon  as  the  Supply  Park  arrives,  a  Supply 
Depot  will  be  established  at  Mr.  Beck's  Store,  on 
Baumann's  Square. 

8.  Divisions,  Brigades,  &c.,  where  quartered. 

The  following  units  are  quartered  as  shown 
below : — 

CAVALRY    DIVISION 

Headquarters — Club,  Market  Square. 

1st  Brigade — About  2  miles  W.  of  town. 

2nd  Brigade — Bloemspruit,  about  3  miles  east  of 

town. 
3rd  Brigade — Rustfontein,  about  i  mile  N.  of  town. 


20 


Its  Infancy 


Mr.  James  Collins,  under  State  Secretary  to  the 
late  O.F.S.  Government,  has  been  appointed  Land- 
drost  of  Bloemfontein. 

The  period  for  handing  in  arms  and  ammunition 
by  burghers  and  residents  of  this  town  and  district 
has  been  extended  to  March  26th. 


After  a  notice  that  Major  Hamilton,  the 
Carabineers,  would  like  to  receive  two  £5  notes, 
a  Mauser  pistol,  a  pair  of  Zeiss  glasses  and  a  grey 
gelding,  all  lost  by  various  persons  in  and  near 
the  town,  we  published  our  editorial  announce- 
ment that  the  paper  was  estabHshed  by  and  for 
Lord  Roberts's  army: — 


EDITORIAL   ANNOUNCEMENTS 

The  events  of  the  last  few  days  have  rendered  it 
expedient  that  an  official  organ  should  be  published 
in  Bloemfontein  during  the  period  of  Military  Gov- 
ernorship. With  that  end  in  view,  and  also  to  pro- 
vide for  public  requirements,  a  small  committee 
formed  from  the  corps  of  war  correspondents  with 
Lord  Roberts'  Field  Force  has  been  entrusted  with 
the  control  and  management  of  the  long-established 
paper  hitherto  known  as  The  Friend  of  the  Free 
State. 

In  future  this  will  be  issued  under  the  style  and 
title  of  The  Friend,  and  will  be  a  daily  publication, 

21 


War's  Brighter  Side 

containing  military  intelligence  and  orders  for  the 
general  information  of  the  troops  now  quartered 
here,  and  other  matter. 

We  are  glad  to  be  able  to  announce  the  imme- 
diate publication  of  contributions  from  the  pens  of 
such  well-known  writers  as  Rudyard  Kipling,  Julian 
Ralph,  Bennet  Burleigh,  and  other  distinguished 
journalists.  We  congratulate  our  readers  upon  the 
happy  chance  which  has  enabled  us  to  offer  the 
public  the  voluntary  services  of  such  a  staff  of 
writers  as  cannot  be  paralleled  elsewhere  in  South 
Africa. 

In  conclusion  we  wish  to  state  briefly  the  sim- 
ple policy  which  will  be  adhered  to  in  their  col- 
umns. 

The  maintenance  of  British  Supremacy  in  South 
Africa  and  Equal  Rights  for  all  white  men  without 
respect  of  race  or  creed. 

These  two  principles  in  our  opinion  embody 
the  essentials  of  sound  government,  the  pros- 
perity of  this  country,  and  the  happiness  of  the 
people. 

For  the  Committee  of  Management, 

P.  Landon, 
E.  W.  Buxton, 

H.  A.  GWYNNE. 


Mr.  Buxton  explained  to  me,  with  unneces- 
sary but  commendable  delicacy,  that  only  three 
of  our  four  signatures  were  appended   to  this 

22 


Its  Infancy 


notice  because  I  was  better  known  as  a  writer 
than  as  an  editor,  and  it  was  deemed  best  not  to 
give  me  the  double  credit  of  serving  in  both 
capacities. 

The  first  editorial  in  this  new  and  unique 
journal  was  entitled,  ''  Sulk  or  Duty,"  and  was 
written  by  Mr.  Buxton.  It  was  an  appeal  to  all 
Afrikanders  not  to  sulk,  but  to  ''  buckle  to  the 
work  of  making  their  country  become  what  it 
shall  be,  a  great  and  glorious  home  for  countless 
millions  yet  unborn."  The  remainder  of  the  page 
was  given  over  to  a  report  of  the  letter  of  Kruger 
and  Steyn  to  the  Marquis  of  Salisbury,  insisting 
upon  the  independence  of  the  two  Republics,  and 
Lord  Salisbury's  reply  that  his  government  was 
''  not  prepared  to  assent  to  the  independence  of 
either  republic."  To  us  of  the  army  this  was 
great  news.  It  stirred  the  camp,  and  was  well 
suited  to  attract  the  widest  attention  to  our 
journalistic  enterprise.  But  Lord  Salisbury's  an- 
swer seemed  to  us  the  only  answer  he  could 
make,  whereas  the  comment  upon  it  by  a  Co- 
lonial writer  in  The  Friend  showed  a  feeling  of 
relief  and  of  delighted  surprise  which  was  born 
of  the  bitter  disappointments  the  loyal  men  of 
Africa  had  suffered  in  the  past.  "  Now,  at  last, 
we  know  the  foundation  upon  which  we  shall 
build.  The  unhappy  issue  of  Lord  Wolseley's 
promise  at  Pretoria  in  1879  is  still  fresh  in  our 

23 


War's  Brighter  Side 

minds  .  .  .  late,  indeed,  but  still,  to  the  letter, 
that  solemn  undertaking  shall  be  fulfilled.  At 
last  we  see  the  one  obstacle  vanish  that  has  for 
these  long  years  stood  between  South  Africa  and 
her  prosperity." 

Whoever  can  feel  the  spirit  of  that  cry  of 
satisfaction  needs  not  to  be  told  how  just  and 
necessary  was  the  war  we  were  waging.  Few  of 
us  in  the  army  could  probe  the  sources  of  the  war 
to  their  depths.  Comparatively  few  men  in  Eng- 
land thoroughly  grasped  the  situation.  It  is  all 
revealed  in  this  shout  by  Mr.  Buxton  in  The 
Friend.  The  long-protracted  feud  between  the 
two  races,  the  injustice  of  Boer  rule,  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  British,  the  threats  of  the  semi-civil- 
ised men  in  power,  the  past  troubles  all  ending  in 
broken  promises  or  shameful  neglect  by  the  Brit- 
ish Government — these  are  all  apparent  in  that 
cry  of  delight.  The  war  had  not  produced  such 
satisfaction.  There  had  been  war  before  and 
nothing  but  humiliation  of  the  loyal  Uitlander 
had  come  of  it.  But  a  decided,  firm  declaration 
that  the  war  could  only  end  in  British  sover- 
eignty— that  was  news  that  thrilled  the  heart  of 
every  Anglo-Saxon  colonial  in  the  republics  and 
the  adjacent  colonies. 

Other  articles  and  official  notices  of  the  first 
interest  or  importance  were  as  follows: — 


24 


Its  Infancy 


THE  HUMOROUS  SIDE  OF  THE  CAM- 
PAIGN 

War  is  grim  and  fearsome  and  horrid  as  we 
know,  or  rather  as  we  are  being  continually  told,  but 
nobody  seems  to  have  noticed  that  there  is  a  humor- 
ous side  to  it,  and  sometimes  the  spectre  Death 
wears  the  cap  and  bells.  Up  to  the  present  the  cam- 
paign has  not  been  without  its  little  amusing  inci- 
dents. In  the  camp  they  have  been  quite  numerous, 
and  even  on  the  battlefield  itself  they  have  not  been 
unfrequent.  The  story  of  a  private  at  Paardeberg 
who  lay  behind  one  of  those  ever-to-be-blessed  ant- 
heaps,  and  contemplating  a  shattered  tibia,  ex- 
claimed, addressing  the  injured  member,  "  Well, 
you  ain't  done  me  badly  after  all.  You  'elped  to 
carry  me  'ere,  and  now  you've  got  me  a  life  pen- 
sion and  free  baccy  from  the  parson,"  has  the  merit 
of  being  true.  One  cannot  refrain  a  smile  at  the 
soliloquy  of  another  private  who  wished  to  exhibit 
a  bullet-riddled  helmet  to  his  friends  at  home.  He 
was  firing  from  behind  a  big  boulder  on  which  he 
placed  his  helmet.  The  inevitable  shower  of  bullets 
followed,  but  as  has  been  so  often  the  case  with  Boer 
marksmen,  not  a  single  one  touched  the  helmet,  but 
one  **  fetched  "  its  owner  in  the  shoulder,  whereupon 
he  took  the  helmet  from  its  exposed  position,  and, 
looking  at  his  bleeding  shoulder,  remarked,  "  that 
comes  of  cursed  pride  and  nothing  else." 

The  removal  of  all  badges  of  rank  from  officers 
has  been  the  source  of  many  amusing  mistakes.    On 

25 


War's  Brighter  Side 

the  march  from  Poplar  Grove  here,  it  is  related 
that  a  certain  general  officer  was  returning  to  camp 
after  a  terribly  hard  dusty  dry  day.  A  subaltern  of 
the  A.S.C.  sat  under  his  canvas  awning,  and  thus  ad- 
dressed this  distinguished  general,  "  Now  look  here, 

if  this  happens  again  I'm  d d  if  I  don't  report 

you.  For  the  last  two  hours  you  have  been  away, 
and  heaven  knows  what  the  mules  are  up  to."  It  is 
true  it  was  dusk,  but  that  was  hardly  a  sufficient 

excuse  for  mistaking  General for  a  conductor. 

"  I  say,  old  cocky,"  was  the  remark  made  once  by  a 
captain  to  a  full  colonel,  "  hadn't  you  better  see 
about  getting  some  grub  ?  "  Apologies  followed,  of 
course. 

Then  who  can  resist  laughing  at  the  tale  of  woe 
unfolded  by  one  of  our  most  distinguished  corre- 
spondents   who    dined    one    night   with    the   

Guards  and  slept  in  the  tent  of  his  host?  The  next 
morning  he  walked  into  the  mess  hut  and  sat  down 
to  breakfast.  But  imagine  the  trembling  horror 
which  seized  hold  of  him  when  he  looked  round 
at  his  hosts  of  the  night  before  and  failed  to  recog- 
nise a  single  one  of  them.  Was  it  a  failure  of  mem- 
ory, or  was  it  incipient  paralysis  of  the  brain? — it 
could  not,  of  course,  have  been  the  whisky.  And  so 
he  sat  in  a  bath  of  hot  and  cold  perspiration,  think- 
ing that  the  blow  which  had  so  often  attacked  and 
destroyed  fine  intellects  had  reached  his.  But  sud- 
den as  a  straw  is  whisked  past  the  drowning  man 
by  the  fast  current,  so  there  passed  through  his 
brain  one  ray  of  hope.     He  remembered  the  name 

26 


Its  Infancy 


of  his  host,  and  turning  quickly  to  his  neighbour, 
fearing  lest  his  brain  might  again  fail  him  and  he 

should  forget  the  name,  asked,  "  Where  is ?  " 

The  answer  was  a  relief  and  yet  a  horror,  " is 

having  breakfast  in  the  mess  tent  of  his  battalion," 
— and,  pointing  through  the  door,  "  there  it  is  over 
there."  It  was  with  slow,  sobered  steps  that  our 
correspondent  left  the  table  and  made  his  way  to  the 
hut  of  his  host.  He  had  made  what,  after  all,  was 
not  an  uncommon  error,  and  had  mistaken  the 
S Guards'  hut  for  that  of  the  C Guards. 


Facts  and  Otherwise 

Mr.  Arthur  Barlow  has  resigned  his  position  as 
editor  of  The  Friend. 


Original  contributions  and  correspondence  are 
invited  from  all  ranks  of  the  Field  Force. 


As  in  all  probability  the  territory  hitherto  known 
as  the  O.F.S.  will  in  the  near  future  be  designated 
by  a  different  title,  the  Committee  of  Management 
oflfer  a  prize  of  £s  for  the  best  suggestion  for  re- 
naming this  country. 


CANADIANS    ON    MAJUBA    DAY 

On  the  afternoon  of  Monday,  the  26th  February, 
the  6-in.  howitzers  bombarded  Gen.  Cronje's  laager 

27 


War's  Brighter  Side 

at  Paardeberg  with  Lyddite  shells.  The  effect  of 
the  salvos  viewed  from  a  distance  of  3,000  yards 
was  terrific.  What  the  occupants  of  the  laager  felt 
cannot  be  told,  for  the  reason  that  no  truthful  ac- 
count is  obtainable.  The  explosions  in  appear- 
ance were  not  unlike  the  great  dynamite  explosion 
in  Johannesburg  in  1896,  only  the  great  cloud  of 
smoke  was  greenish-yellow  instead  of  grey.  An  air 
of  expectancy  pervaded  the  British  camp,  every  one 
knowing  that  the  morrow  was  Majuba  Day,  and  it 
was  thought  that  something  decisive  would  be  done. 
Early  next  morning,  about  3  o'clock,  the  silence  of 
the  night  was  broken  by  the  softened  spit-puff  sound 
of  the  Mauser  rifle,  and  immediately  after  the  firing 
became  a  fierce  fusilade,  the  sharp  crack  of  the  Lee- 
Metford  joining  in.  The  crackling  concert  lasted 
about  an  hour,  rising  and  falling  with  sudden  acute 
crises  like  a  passage  of  Wagner's  music.  Bullets 
were  falling  around  the  camp  at  distances  up  to 
3,000  yards,  from  the  Boer  laager,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  the  firing  was  wild. 

At  first  streak  of  dawn  a  ride  to  the  advanced 
trenches  of  the  Canadians  on  the  river  bank  enabled 
one  to  learn  the  wherefore  of  the  night's  disturb- 
ance. The  ambulance  waggons  were  already  pro- 
ceeding quickly  up  the  south  bank  of  the  river.  A 
pontoon  ferry  was  plying  from  bank  to  bank  bring- 
ing across  wounded  Canadians,  nearly  all  suffering 
from  bullet  wounds,  but  some  few  had  by  accident 
been  struck  by  the  bayonet. 

The  Canadians  occupied  trenches  on  both  banks 

28 


Its  Infancy 


of  the  river,  and  were  within  about  500  yards  of 
the  enemy.  On  their  left — that  is  some  distance 
north  of  the  river — were  the  Gordons,  and  further 
to  the  south  the  Shropshires.  The  orders  were  that 
the  four  companies  of  Canadians  in  the  north  bank 
should  advance  under  cover  of  the  darkness  and  try 
to  gain  the  enemy's  trenches,  or  at  least  get  nearer. 
They  advanced  in  two  lines  of  two  companies  each, 
the  front  line  having  bayonets  fixed  and  the  second 
carrying  rifles  slung  with  picks  and  shovels  in  their 
hands  to  dig  an  advanced  trench,  should  it  be 
thought  advisable  to  go  right  to  the  trenches. 

When  the  Canadians  left  the  Gordons  were  to 
occupy  the  left  of  their  trenches,  and  the  Shrop- 
shires placed  in  advance  in  a  position  to  command 
the  Boers,  should  they  rise  in  their  trenches  to  fire 
on  the  Canadians.  They  were  told  to  hold  their 
fire  until  the  Mausers  first  spoke.  The  Canadians 
and  Gordons  were  not  to  fire  at  all.  The  operation 
was  one  requiring  coolness,  nerve,  and  pluck,  and 
the  Canadians  did  it  magnificently.  They  advanced 
as  quietly  as  possible  about  400  yards,  and  then 
halted,  the  order  being  conveyed  by  pressure  of 
the  hand  from  one  to  another.  Every  one  thought 
that  the  second  line  would  now  dig  the  trench,  but 
another  pressure  ordered  a  further  advance.  Five 
paces  had  been  covered  when  Mauser  bullets  hissed 
past,  and  the  men,  as  ordered,  fell  fiat,  just  in  time 
to  avoid  the  terrific  fire  that  was  immediately  poured 
from  the  Boer  trenches.  A  minute  or  two  elapsed, 
and  the  order  came  to  retire.     Not  a  shot  was  fired 

29 


War's  Brighter  Side 

by  the  Canadians,  and  they  quietly  crept  back,  gain- 
ing their  trenches  with  comparatively  little  loss. 
Meanwhile  the  Shropshire  men,  who  had  carefully 
taken  the  range  and  direction  before  dark,  opened 
fire  on  the  Boers,  and  at  the  end  of  an  hour  put  them 
to  silence.  A  bugle  sounded  *'  cease  fire,"  and  all 
was  still  again.  That  morning  (Majuba  Day)  Cronje 
surrendered. 

PROCLAMATION 

TO   THE   BURGHERS   OF   THE   ORANGE    FREE    STATE 

The  British  troops  under  my  command  having 
entered  the  Orange  Free  State,  I  feel  it  my  duty 
to  make  known  to  all  Burghers  the  cause  of  our 
coming,  as  well  as  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  put  an 
end  to  the  devastation  caused  by  this  war,  so  that 
should  they  continue  the  war  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Orange  Free  State  may  not  do  so  ignorantly,  but 
with  full  knowledge  of  their  responsibility  before 
God  for  the  lives  lost  in  the  campaign. 

Before  the  war  began  the  British  Government, 
which  had  always  desired  and  cultivated  peace  and 
friendship  with  the  people  of  the  Orange  Free  State, 
gave  a  solemn  assurance  to  President  Steyn  that  if 
the  Orange  Free  State  remained  neutral  its  territory 
would  not  be  invaded,  and  its  independence  would 
be  at  all  times  fully  respected  by  Her  Majesty's 
Government. 

In  spite  of  that'  declaration  the  Government  of 
the  Orange  Free  State  was  guilty  of  a  wanton  and 
unjustifiable  invasion  of  British  territory. 

30 


Its  Infancy 

The  British  Government  believes  that  this  act 
of  aggression  was  not  committed  with  the  general 
approval  and  free  will  of  a  people  with  whom  it  has 
lived  in  complete  amity  for  so  many  years.  It  be- 
lieves that  the  responsibility  rests  wholly  with  the 
Government  of  the  Orange  Free  State,  acting,  not 
in  the  interests  of  the  country,  but  under  mis- 
chievous influences  from  without.  The  British 
Government,  therefore,  wishes  the  people  of  the 
Orange  Free  State  to  understand  that  it  bears  them 
no  ill-will,  and,  so  far  as  is  compatible  with  the  suc- 
cessful conduct  of  the  war  and  the  re-establishment 
of  peace  in  South  Africa,  it  is  anxious  to  preserve 
them  from  the  evils  brought  upon  them  by  the 
wrongful  action  of  their  Government. 

I  therefore  warn  all  Burghers  to  desist  from  any 
further  hostility  towards  Her  Majesty's  Government 
and  the  troops  under  my  command,  and  I  undertake 
that  any  of  them  who  may  so  desist  and  who  are 
found  staying  in  their  homes  and  quietly  pursuing 
their  ordinary  occupations  will  not  be  made  to  suffer 
in  their  persons  6r  property  on  account  of  their 
having  taken  up  arms  in  obedience  to  the  order  of 
their  Government.  Those,  however,  who  oppose 
the  forces  under  my  command,  or  furnish  the  enemy 
with  supplies  or  information,  will  be  dealt  with  ac- 
cording to  the  customs  of  war. 

Requisitions  for  food,  forage,  fuel,  or  shelter 
made  on  the  authority  of  the  officers  in  command 
of  Her  Majesty's  troops,  must  be  at  once  complied 
with;  but  everything  will  be  paid  for  on  the  spot, 

4  31 


War's   Brighter  Side 

prices  being  regulated  by  the  local  market  rates.  If 
the  inhabitants  of  any  district  refuse  to  comply  with 
the  demands  made  upon  them  the  supplies  will  be 
taken  by  force,  a  full  receipt  being  given. 

Should  any  inhabitant  of  the  country  consider 
that  he  or  any  member  of  his  household  has  been 
unjustly  treated  by  any  officer,  soldier,  or  civilian 
attached  to  the  British  Army  he  should  submit  his 
complaint,  either  personally  or  in  writing,  to  my 
Headquarters  or  to  the  Headquarters  of  the  nearest 
General  Officer.  Should  the  complaint  on  enquiry 
be  substantiated,  redress  will  be  given. 

Orders  have  been  issued  by  me  prohibiting  sol- 
diers from  entering  private  houses  or  molesting  the 
civil  population  on  any  pretext  whatever,  and  every 
precaution  has  been  taken  against  injury  to  property 
on  the  part  of  any  person  belonging  to,  or  connected 
with,  the  Army. 

Roberts, 

Field  Marshal, 
Commanding-in-Chief,  South  Africa. 


32 


CHAPTER  III 

Mr.  Kipling  makes  His  First  Appearance 

A  Costly  Sheet — Lines  by  Kipling — The  Steynless 
City — A  Love  Letter — Exciting  Experiences 

Cup  Tips  and  )     THE     FRIEND.     (  Playing  Cards. 
Wafers        \  \  All  Qualities  at 

at  Barlow's.   )    3d.  3d.  (       Barlow's. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts'  Forces^ 

The  above  was  hereafter  to  be  the  wording  of 
the  full  title  of  the  new  paper.  It  was  again  of 
the  small  size,  necessitated  by  the  infirm  and 
petty  possibilities  of  the  dust-heap  in  which  it 
was  produced. 

In  this  second  number  appeared  a  verse  of  a 
poem  by  Rudyard  Kipling,  who,  unknown  to  us 
and  unsuspected  by  himself,  was  soon  to  be  so 
closely  connected  with  our  enterprise.  As  soon 
as  we  agreed  to  take  control  of  the  new  paper, 
Mr.  Landon  had  wired  the  news  to  Mr.  Kip- 
ling, then  in  Capetown,  with  a  request  for  a  con- 
tribution for  the  first  number.  The  fact  that  the 
poetic  reply  reached  Bloemfontein  twenty-four 
hours  later  was  a  matter  of  delight  and  surprise 
to  all  of  us,  for  the  chained  lightning  of  the  wired 
highway  of  correspondence  loses  its  chief  charac- 

33 


War's  Brighter  Side 

teristic  of  speed  where  the  military  make  first 
use  of  it  in  time  of  war. 

I  should  not  like  even  to  imagine  the  disgust 
with  which  some  of  the  lower  order  of  censors, 
at  terminal  and  junctional  points,  viewed  this  bit 
of  poetry  as  it  crawled  along  and  they  were  called 
upon  to  approve  it,  perhaps,  as  "  unseditious 
matter  not  calculated  to  give  information  to  the 
enemy."  But  then  I  do  not  Hke  to  think  of  that 
breed  of  censors  under  any  circumstances.  It 
wrinkles  my  temper. 

Mr.  Landon's  journalistic  enterprise  not  only 
turned  the  eyes  of  all  the  Kipling  collectors  of 
the  world  upon  our  newspaper,  but  because  our 
printers  left  the  date  line  "March  i6"  unal- 
tered on  an  inside  page  of  this  number  of  the 
17th,  that  issue  became  a  curio  among  our  read- 
ers. On  the  next  day  copies  of  the  first  hundred 
papers,  which  were  issued  before  the  mistake  was 
noticed,  fetched  five  shillings.  Within  a  month 
their  price  was  twenty-five  shillings.  But  that  is 
only  a  twentieth  part  of  what  an  odd  and  not  spe- 
cially distinguished  number  of  The  Friend  sold 
for  at  a  bazaar  in  London  last  summer  (1900). 

Mr.  Landon  wrote  a  notable  and  brilliant 
editorial  on  ''The  Collapse  of  the  Rebellion"; 
General  Smith-Dorrien  replied  to  the  remarks 
about  the  Canadians  at  Paardeberg  in  the  previ- 
ous day's  issue;  Lord  Roberts's  congratulation 
34 


Mr.  Kipling's  First  Appearance 

to  the  Army  was  published  in  this  number;  and 
there  also  appeared  my  ''  love  letter  to  Miss 
Bloemfontein." 

As  this  love-correspondence  attracted  great 
interest  then  and  was  peculiar  in  its  commence- 
ment, continuation,  and  end,  I  will  tell,  briefly, 
what  the  facts  are  concerning  it.  I  was  in- 
valided and  confined  to  my  bedroom  in  the  Free 
State  Hotel,  and  being  advertised  as  a  contribu- 
tor, bethought  me  that  it  would  be  a  graceful  and 
pleasant  thing  to  act  as  spokesman  for  the  army 
in  praising  the  pretty  town,  and  acknowledging 
the  gratitude  we  felt  to  the  people  for  their 
friendly  behaviour  to  us  conquerors. 

I  did  not  know  at  that  time  that  the  town 
was  a  pestilential,  bacillus-soaked  headquarters 
for  disease,  or  that  far  too  many  of  those  who 
smiled  upon  us  hated  us  bitterly,  and  were  even 
then  engaged  in  encouraging  the  Boers,  con- 
veying information  to  them,  and  sneaking  out 
at  night  to  fight  with  the  enemy  or  to  snipe  our 
outposts.  In  a  word,  though  I  had  studied  the 
Boer  more  closely  and  longer  than  any  other 
London  correspondent,  I  had  not  measured  the 
breadth  and  depth  of  his  contempt  for  truth, 
honour,  and  fair  play.  Therefore  I  wrote  the 
letter  to  Miss  Bloemfontein  which,  with  the 
other  notable  contributions  to  that  day's  paper, 
is  herewith  republished. 

35 


War's  Brighter  Side 

On  this  day  the  advertisements  for  what  were 
then  called  '*  lost "  horses  already  numbered 
three,  and,  already,  we  published  a  communica- 
tion headed  ''  Loot  News  "  in  which  was  stated 
the  fact  that  the  horse-stealing  had  become  so 
bold  that  a  horse  had  actually  been  taken  from  in 
front  of  the  Club. 

''  Please  note  the  following,"  the  reporter 
wrote,  *'  Section  i,  clause  i,  of  the  newly  promul- 
gated constitution  of  the  city  without  a  Steyn 
— A  man  may  kill  a  man  and  live,  but  a  man  who 
steals  a  horse  may  not  live."  Whether  there  will 
occur  an  opportunity  in  this  book  to  explain  how 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  Boers  affected  the 
moral  atmosphere  and  demoralised  our  earlier 
views  of  property  rights,  especially  in  horse-own- 
ership, I  cannot  yet  say,  but  whenever  the  tale  is 
told  it  will  be  discovered  to  be  extraordinary. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts'  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    SATURDAY,    MARCH    I7,    I9OO. 


LINES    BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 
March  17,  1900 
St.  Patrick's  Day 
Oh!  Terence  dear,  and  did  you  hear 

The  news  that's  going  round? 
The  shamrock's  Erin's  badge  by  law, 
Where'er  her  sons  be  found. 

36 


Mr.  Kipling's  First  Appearance 

From  Bobsfontein  to  Ballyhock 

'Tis  ordered  by  the  Queen, 
We've  won  our  right  in  open  fight 

The  wearing  of  the  Green. 


THE   STEYNLESS    CITY 
Loot  News 

Absent-minded  beggars  please  note  following 
intimations  displayed  at  the  Club  House,  Market 
Square : — 

Taken  from  a  boy  in  front  of  the  Club  on  15th 
inst.,  about  7  p.m.,  a  bay  gelding,  about  thirteen 
hands,  star  on  forehead,  white  patch  on  top  lip, 
tick  marks  on  hind  quarters,  long  tail  trimmed 
square,  branded  R  G  off  forehoof.  A  15  near  fore- 
hoof. 

Will  the  gentleman  who  took  a  brown  pony  by 
mistake  from  a  boy  at  the  door  of  this  Club-house 
on  March  15  kindly  return  it  to  manager? 

Also  please  note  following : — 

Section  i,  clause  i,  of  newly-promulgated  con- 
stitution of  the  City  without  a  Steyn — ^A  man  may 
kill  a  man  and  live,  but  a  man  that  steals  a  horse 
may  not  live. 

The  Late  Presidency 

The  official  Headquarters  of  Field-Marshal  Lord 
Roberts  and  his  stafif  are  at  the  Residency. 


37 


War's  Brighter  Side 

TO    MISS    BLOEMFONTEIN 

A    LOVE    LETTER 

Come,  little  Miss  Bloemfontein,  sit  down  beside 
me  and  let  me  hold  your  dimpled  hand  and  look 
into  those  eyes  which  have  caught  the  wonderful 
blue  of  these  heavens,  and  the  tints  of  your  gardens 
and  your  bowery  streets.  I  think  our  whole  army 
likes  you,  you  belle  of  the  Boer  aristocracy.  You 
certainly  change  your  lovers  easily  and  lightly,  but 
soldiers  are  reported  not  to  mind  a  little  coquetry 
when  they  are  far  from  home.  You  have  tripped 
out  to  meet  us  so  enticingly,  you  have  so  led  us  into 
your  bower  with  your  warm  little  hand,  and  you 
have  spoken  so  kindly  to  us,  that  we  dislike  to  think 
you  were  quite  the  same  to  your  earlier  beaux  in 
their  homespun  suits,  their  flapping  hats,  and  their 
lavish  indulgence  in  whiskers  and  beards,  which,  as 
you  must  know,  are  the  cheapest  of  luxuries — pro- 
digalities in  which  misers  indulge  to  make  a  show 
and  save  a  barber's  bill. 

You  might  have  been  hateful  to  us  and  we  could 
not  have  blamed  you,  for  we  came  too  nearly,  as 
certain  other  soldiers  came  to  the  Sabine  sisterhood, 
with  blood  in  our  eyes  and  weapons  in  hand,  fancy- 
ing that  you  would  cling  to  your  old  love,  and  never 
dreaming  that  he  would  run  away  and  leave  you 
unprotected  in  this  placid  and  pretty  little  boudoir 
that  you  have  set  up  here.  You  won't  forget  that 
little  episode,  will  you,  Miss  Bloemfontein?  And 
you  did  take  note,  didn't  you,  my  dear,  that  when 

38 


Mr.  Kipling's  First  Appearance 

we  found  you  deserted,  all  forlorn,  we  changed  from 
lion  to  lamb,  from  blustering  warrior  to  soft-spoken 
wooer?  We  spoke  no  harsh  word  to  your  people 
and  did  their  goods  no  violence.  Even  now,  we 
stand  aside  in  our  own  place,  crowding  none  of 
your  servitors,  but  smiling  back  the  smiles  you 
bathe  us  in,  and  breathing  our  admiration  softly — 
for  you  are  a  pretty  miss  and  gentle — and  we  are  not 
so  stupid  as  to  fail  to  see  that  you  are  no  Boadicea, 
but  a  lover  of  peace  and  concord,  if  ever  one  has 
lived  on  earth  since  the  muses  took  to  the  clouds. 
Sweetness  of  loving  sighs  its  soft  song  of  delight  in 
every  breeze  that  rustles  the  leaves  of  your  tree- 
garlands.  Domesticity  asserts  its  command,  by 
your  order,  in  the  aspect  of  every  cottage  in  your 
park-like  nest.  Homely  comfort  radiates  from  the 
hearths  and  the  faces  of  all  who  live  under  your 
delightful  rule. 

I  never  anywhere  saw  a  prettier  or  a  more  as- 
tonishing scene  than  I  witnessed  in  your  market- 
square  on  the  second  night  of  the  stay,  which  we 
hope  you  will  invite  us  to  prolong  to  eternity.  We 
sent  a  few  greasy  and  stained  melodists  with  pipes 
and  drums  to  play  in  the  square,  partly  to  show  you 
that  we  had  dethroned  Mars  and  substituted  Pan  in 
the  best  niche  in  our  hearts,  and  partly  to  set  our 
own  pleasure  tripping  to  gay  tunes.  And  lo!  out 
you  came  with  your  maidens  and  their  lovers,  your 
old  men  and  matrons,  and  the  children  within  your 
gates.  And  we  all  forgot  that  we  had  quarrelled 
with  your  cast-off  favourite,  that  each  of  us  had 

39 


War's  Brighter  Side 

shed  the  other's  blood,  and  that  we  had  come  to 
you  with  an  anger  that  we  supposed  you  matched 
within  your  own  fair  bosom.  Your  people  and  ours 
touched  elbows  and  laughed  and  sang  together. 
For  one  I  was  amazed.  Of  all  the  sharp  contrasts 
of  strife  I  know  of  none  so  bold  and  strong  as  that 
scene  when  it  was  compared  with  the  scenes  of  only 
a  few  days  back  at  Paardeberg  and  Driefontein. 

It  was  your  magic,  your  witchery,  your  tact  that 
brought  it  about,  you  South  African  beauty.  With- 
out these  helps  we  never  could  have  enjoyed  that 
evening  as  we  did,  and  that  evening  was  the  bridge 
that  spanned  the  gulf  between  the  angry  past  and 
the  happy  future  in  our  lives,  little  miss. 

Draw  closer,  Miss  Bloemfontein.  Let  our  arms 
touch,  and  the  thrill  of  ardent  friendship  vivify  our 
new  relation.  You  do  like  us  British,  don't  you, 
dear?  You  don't  have  to  be  British  yourself,  you 
know.  You  can  stay  on  being  Dutch  and  piously 
Presbyterian  and  all  the  rest.  We  will  respect  what- 
ever you  admire,  and  we  will  promise  to  make  you 
richer,  freer,  happier  and  even  more  beautiful — with 
the  ripened  charms  of  a  long-assured  content,  if 
only  you  will  let  your  chief  predikant  publish  the 
banns  next  Sunday — or  sooner,  if  you  will. 

Julian  Ralph. 

A  RECENT  EXPERIENCE 

A  recent  experience  of  Mr.  Bennet  Burleigh  and. 
his    colleague,    Mr.    Percy  Bullen,  of    the    Daily 

40 


Mr.  Kipling's  First  Appearance 

Telegraph,  affords  a  fitting  illustration  of  the  dangers 
to  which  those  attached  to  Field  Forces  are  ex- 
posed. These  two  gentlemen  left  Poplar  Grove  last 
Saturday  with  the  object  of  reaching  General  Kelly- 
Kenny's  column,  which  had  preceded  them  by  sev- 
eral hours  travelling  along  the  high  road  running 
almost  parallel  with  the  Modder  River.  Near 
Abrahamskraal  they  caught  sight  of  the  central  di- 
vision fighting  the  Boers  along  the  kopjes  lying  to 
the  right.  Mr.  Burleigh,  who  was  travelling  in  a 
Cape  cart  drawn  by  four  horses,  stepped  down  to 
survey  matters,  and  while  looking  through  his 
glasses  along  the  high  road  he  saw  a  party  of  Boers 
digging  trenches.  Some  of  them  wore  khaki,  others 
were  dressed  in  a  style  of  the  country,  which  be- 
trayed their  identity  to  the  experienced  eye.  It  was 
decided  to  return  by  the  same  road,  further  progress 
being  obviously  very  hazardous,  as  the  enemy  was 
within  a  distance  of  500  yards.  The  two  carts  occu- 
pied by  the  correspondents  had  barely  turned  round 
when  a  shower  of  bullets  was  sent  in  their  direction, 
several  striking  Mr.  Burleigh's  vehicle,  and  others 
falling  immediately  in  front  of  Mr.  Bullen.  A  des- 
perate race  followed  over  a  distance  of  several  miles, 
in  the  course  of  which  a  convoy  of  several  mule 
waggons  was  met.  The  officer  in  charge  ordered 
the  convoy  to  return  immediately,  and  his  instruc- 
tions were  quickly  followed.  Meantime  a  messen- 
ger was  sent  across  to  the  central  division  to  ask  for 
assistance,  as  the  Boers,  though  a  considerable  dis- 
tance behind,  were  still  shooting.     By  dint  of  hard 

41 


War's  Brighter  Side 

work  and  much  lashing  of  horses  and  mules,  every 
one  got  safely  away,  but  one  of  Mr.  Bullen's  team 
fell  a  victim  to  the  enemy's  fire.  Fortunately  the 
shot  came  from  across  the  river,  and  the  remaining 
animal,  though  sorely  tried  by  the  boulders  and 
sluits  of  a  bad  road  over  which  the  whole  of  the  con- 
voy and  escort  had  likewise  proceeded  at  a  break- 
neck pace,  was  able  to  pull  the  cart  out  upon  the 
veldt  and  so  elude  further  damage.  By  this  time 
some  of  Rimington's  scouts  appeared,  and  one  of 
the  number  kindly  lent  the  correspondent  his  horse, 
by  means  of  which  he  was  able  to  rejoin  his  col- 
league at  Poplar  Grove,  where  the  entire  party 
passed  the  night.  It  was  an  exciting  chase  ex- 
tending over  several  miles,  and  the  safety  of  the 
correspondents  and  convoy  was  largely  due  to  the 
zeal  of  the  native  drivers,  who  worked  as  if  life  as 
well  as  liberty  depended  on  the  result.  The  huge 
column  of  dust  thrown  up  by  the  carts  and  horses 
was  sufficient  to  baffle  even  the  most  expert  rifle- 
men, and  the  Boers  who  pursued  were  certainly  not 
good  shots  even  at  close  quarters.  In  order  to 
assist  his  flight  Mr.  Bullen  jettisoned  a  large  quan- 
tity of  horse  fodder,  whereas  his  experienced  col- 
league, Mr.  Burleigh,  arrived  in  camp  with  all  his 
goods  intact,  including  a  live  sheep.  It  transpired 
subsequently  that  the  messenger  despatched  for  as- 
sistance, as  well  as  two  others  who  followed  him, 
were  captured.  The  correspondents  state  that  the 
skill  displayed  by  their  drivers  in  avoiding  the  huge 
boulders  which  lined  the  high  road,  and  especially 

42 


Mr.  Kipling's  First  Appearance 

in  descending  and  ascending  the  banks  of  a  very- 
precipitous  sluit  with  a  twelve  feet  dip,  was  a  most 
creditable  performance,  reminding  one  of  the  won- 
derful exercises  of  our  artillery  drivers  at  the  Is- 
lington Military  Tournament. 


CORRESPONDENCE 
CANADIANS  ON  MAJUBA  DAY 

By   MAJOR-GENERAL    SMITH-DORRIEN 

Bloemfontein,  March  17,  1900. 
To  the  Editor  of  "  The  Friend." 

Dear  Sir, — I  have  read  your  account  of  "  The 
Canadians  on  Majuba  Day  "  in  your  issue  of  yes- 
terday. It  is  correct  up  to  a  certain  point,  but  the 
last  part  of  it  is  quite  erroneous. 

In  justice  to  this  gallant  corps,  and  to  the  Com- 
pany of  Royal  Engineers  who  were  with  them,  I 
trust  you  will  publish  this  letter — ^which  recounts 
what  actually  happened  from  the  moment  the  Royal 
Canadians  advanced  from  the  trench,  550  yards  from 
the  enemy,  until  they  established  themselves  and 
made  a  new  trench  within  93  yards  of  the  Boer 
trenches. 

At  2.15  a.m.  (on  the  27th  February),  the  Royal 
Canadians  with  240  men  in  the  front  rank,  the  latter 
with  rifles  slung  and  entrenching  tools,  and  about 
30  officers  and  men.  Royal  Engineers  under  Lieut.- 
Colonel  Kincaid  forming  the  right  of  the  rear  rank 

43 


War's  Brighter  Side 

of  the  Canadians,  moved  steadily  from  the  trench, 
shoulder  to  shoulder  in  the  dark  night,  feeling  their 
way  through  the  bushes,  and  keeping  touch  by  the 
right. 

At  2.50  a.m.  they  were  met  by  a  terrific  fire  from 
the  enemy's  trench,  now  only  60  yards  in  front  of 
them. 

The  line  was  forced  to  fall  back,  but  only  a  very 
small  distance,  the  right  of  it  under  Captain  Stairs 
and  Macdonell,  Royal  Canadians,  some  twenty 
yards,  where  they  lay  down  in  the  open  and  returned 
a  steady  fire — mostly  volleys — for  the  next  one  and 
a  half  hours  ;  the  left  had  had  to  fall  back  rather 
further. 

Under  cover  of  these  two  Captains,  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Kincaid  and  his  R.E.  officer  and  men,  and 
the  Canadian  working  party  in  that  part  of  the  line 
constructed  trenches  in  spite  of  the  galling  fire,  and 
by  daylight  had  completed  a  most  admirable  work 
which  gave  grand  cover  against  fire  in  all  threat- 
ened directions,  and  was  so  well  traversed  with 
banks  and  sand-bags  that  not  a  single  casualty  oc- 
curred after  it  was  occupied. 

As  day  dawned  a  ruined  house  was  noticed  on 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  from  which  this 
work  could  be  enfiladed,  and  a  party  from  the  re- 
serve was  sent  up  the  left  bank  to  occupy  it. 

To  cover  the  early  morning  attack  as  soon  as  the 
fire  opened  at  2.50  a.m.,  the  Shropshires,  in  order 
to  hold  the  enemy  in  the  main  laager,  engaged  them 
with   long-range  volleys,   whilst  the   Gordons   re- 

44 


Mr.  Kipling's  First  Appearance 

mained  partly  in  the  open  and  partly  in  the  most  ad- 
vanced flank  trench,  which  latter  they  lengthened 
and  enlarged,  ready  to  move  forward  in  support. 

Shortly  after  daylight  a  white  flag  was  flying  in 
the  Boer  trench,  which  was  93  yards  from  our 
newly-constructed  trench,  and  soon  the  Boers  came 
trooping  into  our  line.  They  stated  that  they  had 
no  orders  from  General  Cronje  to  surrender,  but 
that  they  heard  he  intended  to  give  in  on  the  28th 
February. 

The  result,  however,  of  this  gallant  operation  was 
that  General  Cronje  altered  his  date  one  day  earlier. 

Your  account  says  that  our  losses  were  com- 
paratively small  ;  so  they  were  for  the  results 
gained,  and  considering  the  heavy  fire  which  con- 
tinued for  nearly  two  hours  at  80  yards'  range. 
They  only  amounted  to  45  casualties  in  the  Brigade 
— thus,  12  N.C.O.'s  and  men  Royal  Canadians 
killed,  30  N.C.O.'s  and  men  Royal  Canadians 
wounded,  and  3  officers  wounded,  Major  Pelletier 
and  Lieut.  Armstrong,  Royal  Canadians,  and  I.ieut. 
Atchison,  King's  Shropshire  Light  Infantry — a 
fold  in  the  ground  exactly  covered  the  spot  where 
the  party  was  working,  hence  the  absence  of  cas- 
ualties in  the  Royal  Engineers,  and  the  slight  losses 
in  the  working  party  of  Royal  Canadians. 
Yours  faithfully, 

H.  L.   Smith-Dorrien, 
Major-General,  Commanding  19th  Brigade. 

(We  are  glad  to  be  able  to  supplement  our  con- 
tributor's account  of  the  gallant  action  of  the  27th 
45 


War's  Brighter  Side 

by  General  Smith-Dorrien's  categorical  letter  which 
supplies  details  which  could  hardly  be  obtained  ac- 
curately at  second-hand. — Eds.  Friend.) 

A  COLONIAL  HERO 
While  scouting  at  Makouw's  Drift,  two  troopers 
of  Rimington's  Guides  were  fired  on  from  a  small 
kopje  at  close  range.  One  had  his  horse  shot,  and 
the  other,  young  Ewan  Christian,  son  of  Mr.  H.  B. 
Christian,  of  Port  Elizabeth,  rode  back  to  bring  him 
away.  As  he  was  bending  down  to  help  his  com- 
rade up  behind  he  was  himself  fatally  shot,  the  bullet 
passing  through  his  back  and  out  through  his  chest. 
He  rolled  off  his  horse  and  told  his  comrade  to 
mount  and  ride  away.  Shortly  afterwards  Major 
Rimington  and  more  men  came  up  and  heard  the 
last  words  of  the  dying  hero  :  "  Tell  my  old  gov- 
ernor that  I  died  game."  On  retiring  the  party 
were  under  a  hot  fire,  several  horses,  including  that 
of  Major  Rimington,  being  shot.  Mr.  Christian 
was  buried  with  military  honours. 


46 


CHAPTER  IV 

We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

A  Strange  Editorial  Adventure  —  Lord  Roberts's 
New  Government  under  Way — The  Sin  of 
Horse  Theft 

Once,  far  along  the  Grand  Canal  in  China, 
where  the  people  were  all  afraid  or  hostile  at  the 
first  sight  of  me,  a  beautiful  girl  of  sixteen  or 
seventeen  ran  along  the  bank  of  the  canal  after 
my  boat,  beckoning  to  me  and  to  Mr.  Weldon, 
the  artist,  who  was  with  me,  to  disembark  and 
visit  her  home.  She  was  out  walking  with  her 
mother.  There  was  no  doubt  when  one  consid- 
ered how  far  from  any  big  town  she  was,  and  the 
fact  that  she  was  largefooted  and  willing  to  be 
seen  of  men,  that  she  was  a  poor  peasant  girl,  a 
farmer's  daughter,  either  curious  to  see  us 
strange  men,  or  anxious  to  prove  herself  a  Chris- 
tian convert  and  to  repay  the  hospitality  and 
kindness  she  had  received  at  the  hands  of  Chris- 
tian missionaries. 

.  47 


War's  Brighter  Side 

That  was  what  I  thought,  at  any  rate,  and  in 
that  view  I  told  of  the  happening  in  Harper's 
Magazine.  At  once  a  cry  arose,  in  the  companies 
of  men  I  met  and  even  in  some  newspapers  as 
well,  against  my  introducing  so  risque  a  subject 
in  my  account  of  my  adventures.  Until  then  I 
had  no  idea  how  prone  to  evil-thinking  is  the 
world,  how  anxious  to  twist  impurity  out  of  in- 
nocence even  though  it  required  violence  to  do  it. 

Once  again,  and  here,  I  am  going  to  tell  of 
an  incident  equally  sweet  to  memory  and  the 
reflection  of  wholesome  minds;  equally  delicate 
in  the  perfume  of  innocence  which  it  exhales. 
After  the  second  issue  of  The  Friend,  Sunday 
gave  us  a  day  of  rest.  We  had  known  and  seen 
no  women  for  months.  They  were  to  us  as  our 
homes  were,  as  London  was — mere  memories, 
vague  and  shadowy,  beside  the  substantial  reali- 
ties of  fighting,  marching,  thirsting,  and  going 
hungry  in  the  company  of  men — of  men  by  the 
tens  of  thousands,  but  of  no  women. 

There  was  in  Bloemfontein  a  very  blond 
young  woman  of  sixteen  who  served  behind  the 
counter  of  a  shop  in  the  main  street — a  slight, 
sunny-haired,  blue-eyed  miss,  sparkling  with  fun 
and  excited  by  the  novelty  of  waiting  upon  Brit- 
ish soldiers  and  living  in  the  middle  of  what  had 
changed  from  a  dead-and-alive  Boer  village  to  a 
great  armed  British  camp.  The  soldiers  had 
48 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

noticed  her  as  well.  Generals  and  colonels  com- 
pared notes  of  what  gossip  she  and  they  had  ex- 
changed, and  sent  their  friends  to  the  shop  to 
see  her.  The  appearance  of  a  few  unattractive 
women  among  the  soldiers  in  the  village  streets 
had  made  a  mild  sensation,  but  the  discovery  of 
a  fair-haired,  rosy-cheeked  girl  of  English  blood 
was  the  talk  of  the  camp. 

Among  the  first  men  in  Bloemfontein  and  the 
first  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  this  maiden 
was  Mr.  Gwynne,  of  The  Friend.  Foreseeing 
Sunday,  and  scenting  a  chance  to  revive  the  best 
memories  of  civilised  life,  he  proposed  to  gather 
two  army  friends  if  she  would  invite  two  of  her 
feminine  friends  for  a  drive  and  a  luncheon  on 
the  veldt  on  Sunday.  He  invited  James  Barnes, 
a  talented  American  correspondent,  and  myself. 
In  two  Cape  carts  we  called  for  the  young  ladies 
at  their  homes.  They  proved  to  be  the  very 
blond  young  woman,  a  fourteen-year-old  friend, 
and  a  little  girl  of  ten  or  eleven  years  of  age. 

I  confess  that  I  never  would  have  asked  mere 
children  upon  such  an  outing,  but  it  is  equally 
true  that  I  could  not  have  experienced  either  the 
same  or  as  great  and  peculiar  pleasure  with  others 
of  older  growth.  They  were  frank  and  free,  and 
merry  as  grigs.  They  came  as  near  to  having 
us  killed  or  captured  by  the  Boers  as  I  wanted 
to  be,  and  from  them  we  learned  most  interesting 

49 


War's  Brighter  Side 

and  valuable  information  about  the  enemy  and 
about  the  town  as  it  was  before  we  captured  it. 
We  proposed  to  visit  the  home  of  one  of  the 
girls,  a  farm  which  the  girls  said  was  ''  quite 
close.'*  It  proved  to  be  miles  beyond  the  British 
outposts  in  a  country  that  seemed  to  us  to  be 
uncomfortably  peopled  with  Boers  and  which 
proved  afterwards  to  have  been  alive  with  them. 
Of  the  danger  to  us  which  lay  in  such  a  situa- 
tion the  girls  took  no  account.  They  had  been 
born  there.  They  had  seen  nothing  of  war,  and 
did  not  understand  it.  The  Boers  were  their 
lifelong  neighbours.  And,  in  a  word,  they  were 
going  to  visit  friends  and  to  have  fun,  and  noth- 
ing else  entered  their  minds. 

When  we  were  miles  away  and  among  some 
very  suggestive  little  kopjes  we  discovered  that 
our  friends  had  lost  their  way  and  that  we  were 
adrift  on  the  veldt.  Boers  dashed  up  to  the 
crests  of  the  hills,  saw  us  and  disappeared.  Boers 
were  on  every  hand.  Why  we  were  not  gobbled 
up  and  sent  to  Pretoria  none  of  us  can  explain.. 
Eventually,  with  only  one  mishap — the  over- 
turning of  one  of  the  carts — which  seemed  for 
a  moment  more  terrible  than  capture  by  the 
enemy — we  reached  the  farmhouse,  and  aided 
by  several  tiny  boys  and  the  farmer  and  his  wife, 
spent  a  happy  hour  and  a  half.  We  made  our 
way  back  to  Bloemfontein  in  the  evening,  and 

50 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

within  a  day  or  two  Colonels  Crabbe  and  Cod- 
rington  and  Captain  Trotter  were  wounded  and 
the  Honourable  Edward  Lygon  was  killed, at  the 
Glen — a  rifle  shot  from  where  we  had  picnicked! 

The  adventures  and  hairbreadth  escapes  in 
war  are  apt  to  take  only  three  or  four  well-or- 
dered forms.  This  adventure  was  in  no  way  like 
those  of  the  stereotyped  kinds. 

Monday  came,  and,  with  it,  the  third  number 
of  The  Friend.  It  was  now  of  the  enlarged 
size,  which  it  retained  to  the  end — a  sheet  19 
inches  wide  by  32  inches  in  length.  We  con- 
tinued to  do  the  editorial  work  in  the  old  dust- 
bin, as  at  first,  but  we  had  discovered  that  the 
Express  works  were  more  modern  and  capable 
of  turning  out  a  paper  of  the  size  we  preferred. 
The  Express  works  were  two  blocks  away  from 
our  little  den,  in  a  side  street  behind  the  main 
thoroughfare  of  the  town.  They  belonged  to 
Frau  Borckenhagen,  but  had  been  seized  by 
order  of  Lord  Roberts  and  sealed  up.  The  print- 
ing office  and  engine  and  press  rooms  were  after- 
ward made  over  to  us,  the  bindery  was  used  by 
the  military,  and  only  the  office  of  the  departed 
editor,  whence  had  proceeded  the  most  mischiev- 
ous reflections  of  Krugerism  and  the  policy  of 
the  insidious  Afrikander  Bond,  remained  sealed. 
Frau  Borckenhagen  sent  her  agents  to  the  mili- 
tary to  ask  leave  to  recover  some  of  her  hus- 

51 


War's  Brighter  Side 

band's  private  papers.  By  this  means  she  showed 
us  that,  Hke  all  other  Boers,  she  put  the  very 
lowest  valuation  upon  our  intelligence.  But  in 
this  case  she  only  succeeded  in  turning  the  at- 
tention of  the  military  to  her  husband's  papers 
without  getting  the  shading  of  a  degree  nearer 
to  the  possession  of  what  must  have  been — and 
I  think  I  have  heard,  really  proved — of  the  ut- 
most interest  to  us. 

However,  we  were  able  by  using  the  com- 
mandeered property  of  the  Boer  frau,  to  produce 
a  newspaper  of  pretentious  size  and  considerable 
importance. 

The  Friend  now  began  to  bristle  with  proc- 
lamations, and  their  number  appeared  to  be 
doubled  because  each  one  was  repeated  in  the 
Taal  language  under  the  heading  "  Proclamatie." 
In  one  ''  I,  Frederick  Sleigh  Baron  Roberts  of 
Kandahar,  K.P.,  G.C.B.,  G.C.S.I.,  G.C.I.E., 
V.C.,  Field  Marshal  and  Commanding-in-Chief 
the  British  forces  in  South  Africa,  appoint 
George  Anosi  Falck  Administrator  of  the  Civil 
Posts  and  Telegraphs  in  such  portions  of  the 
Orange  Free  State  as  have  been  or  may  hereafter 
be  occupied  by  British  troops.'' 

Another  proclamation  related  to  bills  of  ex- 
change and  promissory  notes;  and  a  third,  by 
General  Pretyman,  appointed  James  Allison  Col- 
lins as  "  Landdrost  of  Bloemfontein  to  administer 
52 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

the  ordinary  civil  and  criminal  laws."  In  this 
proclamation  the  landdrost's  court  was  ordered 
to  resume  its  work  on  Monday,  March  19th.  A 
district  surgeon,  clerk,  receiver,  and  second  clerk 
to  the  landdrost's  court  were  also  appointed. 

General  Pretyman  extended  his  original  mar- 
ket proclamation  as  that  it  established  the  ruHng 
prices  of  cattle,  meat,  breadstuffs,  and  groceries. 
In  the  proclamation  as  translated  into  the  Taal, 
Lord  Roberts  was  declared  to  be  ''  Ik  (I),  Fred- 
erick Sleigh  Baron  Roberts  van  Kandahar,  K.P., 
G.C.B.,  G.C.S.L,  G.C.I.E.,  V.C.,  Veld-maar- 
schalk,  Opperbevelhebber  van  de  Britsche 
Krijgsmachten  in  Zuid-Afrika." 

In  a  notice  to  the  Army  we  said  that  our 
chief  aim  was  to  make  the  paper  welcome  to  and 
supported  by  all  ranks,  and  we  invited  all  in  the 
Army  to  write  for  us.  It  is  true  that  when,  in 
the  previous  day's  issue,  we  published  a  poetic 
contribution  by  a  kind  friend,  who  was  the  first 
to  come  to  our  assistance,  we  did  not  precisely 
encourage  others  to  follow  his  example.  On  the 
contrary,  we  accompanied  the  verses  with  the 
remark  to  the  writer,  "Your  verses  are  execrable. 
See  for  yourself  in  print."  But  this  was  merely 
one  of  the  many  interesting  peculiarities  of  the 
paper.  We  offered  a  prize  of  £5  for  the  best  sug- 
gestion of  a  new  name  for  the  colony,  as  has  been 
already  noted;  and  we  published  the  fact  that 

53 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Miss  Elliott,  daughter  of  the  General  Manager 
of  the  Cape  Government  Railways,  arrived  with 
her  father  by  special  train  on  the  previous  night, 
and  was  the  first  lady  to  cross  the  Free  State 
border  and  to  visit  Bloemfontein.  The  editorial 
of  the  day  was  by  Mr.  Buxton,  and  was  entitled 
"  Uitlander  or  Rebel,  Subject  or  Burgher." 

The  most  notable  article  was  called  ''  The 
Confession  of  a  Horse-stealer,"  and  was  written 
by  one  of  the  editors.  In  the  same  number  an- 
other member  of  the  editorial  quartette  wrote  a 
strong  little  article  calling  attention  to  the  preva- 
lence and  brazenness  of  horse  thieves,  and  de- 
ploring the  facts  in  earnest  and  indignant  lan- 
guage. I  was  now  at  work  at  a  desk  in  the  edi- 
torial room,  and  was  forced  to  act  as  judge  be- 
tween the  outraged  virtue  of  my  colleague  who 
detested  horse-stealing  and  the  pained  surprise  of 
my  other  colleague  who  (shall  I  say  pretended 
or)  confessed  in  writing  that  he  was  an  expert  at 
the  crime. 

"  Surely  you  agree  with  me  that  this  thing 
has  got  to  stop?  "  said  the  one  editor. 

"  Surely  you  will  not  allow  such  canting  non- 
sense to  go  into  the  paper?  "  said  the  other, 
"  especially  where  the  entire  army  has  become 
adept  at  the  practice  of  looting  Boer  horses  or 
exchanging  worn-out  steeds  for  the  fresher  ones 
of  friends." 

54 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

Being  a  born  diplomat  I  agreed  with  both 
my  colleagues,  praised  both  their  articles,  and 
voted  that  both  should  ornament  the  columns  of 
The  Friend. 

I  was  in  a  position  to  behave  with  this  im- 
partiality. My  character  and  reputation  at  home 
forced  me  to  the  side  of  the  indignant  moralist, 
and  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  certain  episodes  in 
my  recent  experience  inclined  me  to  view  the 
confessions  of  the  horse-stealer  with  leniency. 
More  than  once  I  had  been  forced  to  choose  be- 
tween walking  for  days  in  the  enemy's  country 
or  utilising  horses  that  had  been  abandoned  by 
the  Boers.  If  I  were  again  placed  in  such  a  posi- 
tion I  would  surrender  myself  a  prisoner  to  the 
Boers  rather  than  touch  even  a  Uttle  thing  like 
a  horse  that  did  not  belong  to  me.  I  have  had 
time  to  reflect,  and  I  see  how  weak  I  was;  but  at 
that  time  I  was  in  the  Boer  country  where  steal- 
ing is  called  ''  commandeering,"  and  seems  a 
trifling  thing,  rather  creditable  if  practised  suc- 
cessfully and  with  a  high  hand.  In  justification 
of  my  course  in  commending  the  high  moral 
view  of  my  other  colleague,  I  could  say  with 
pride  that  the  horses  I  had  taken  were  both  dead, 
and  my  character  was  thus  lifted  above  reproach. 

The  happy  combination  of  these  points  in 
common  with  both  my  colleagues,  enabled  me 
to  publish  both  their  articles  and  bring  them 

55 


War's  Brighter  Side 

back  to  the  friendliest  terms.  So  successful  was 
I  that  we  allowed  our  feelings  to  carry  us  beyond 
the  bounds  of  reason — that  is  to  say  that  we 
agreed  to  go  to  the  Club  and  take  a  drink.  It 
was  a  thing  which  no  intelligent  man  would 
lightly  agree  to  do.  The  only  liquid  refresh- 
ments then  obtainable  at  the  Club  were  enteric 
germs  in  water,  gin,  vermouth,  and  port  wine. 
It  required  an  occasion  of  the  first  importance 
to  induce  any  of  us  to  go  to  the  Club,  which  was 
always  as  crowded  with  ofBcers  as  an  egg  is  with 
meat.  All  day,  and  until  late  in  the  evening, 
the  principal  apartment  barely  afforded  standing 
room.  The  porch  was  equally  well  filled,  and 
horses  in  dozens  were  tethered  before  the  house. 
It  was  the  social  exchange  and  rendezvous  of 
the  officers  of  something  like  80,000  men,  and  I 
can  hardly  believe  that  anywhere  in  the  world 
was  there  a  club-house  so  constantly  crowded. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts^  Fores.) 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    MONDAY,    MARCH    I9,    I900. 

PROCLAMATION 

Whejieas  it  is  deemed  expedient  and  necessary 
for  the  welfare  of  the  Orange  Free  State  that  Postal 
and  Telegraph   Services   shall   be   resumed   in   the 

56 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

aforesaid  Republic,  as  far  as  circumstances  permit, 

Now  THEREFORE 

I,  Frederick  Sleigh  Baron  Roberts  of 
Khandahar,  K.R,  G.C.B.,  G.C.S.I.,  G.C.I.E.,  V.C, 
Field  Marshal  and  Commanding-in-Chief  of  the 
British  Forces  in  South  Africa,  do  hereby  nominate 
and  appoint  David  George  Anosi  Falck  Adminis- 
trator of  the  Civil  Posts  and  Telegraphs  in  such 
portions  of  the  Orange  Free  State  as  have  been,  or 
may  hereafter  be  occupied  by  British  troops.  And  I 
do  hereby  order  that  the  Postal  and  Telegraph  serv- 
ices shall  be  resumed  in  the  portions  of  the  aforesaid 
Republic  already  referred  to,  from  the  nineteenth 
day  of  March,  1900,  under  the  existing  Laws  and 
Conventions  of  the  Orange  Free  State,  subject  to 
such  alterations  as  may  from  time  to  time  be  notified. 

Given  under  my  hand  at  Bloemfontein  this  Sev- 
enteenth Day  of  March,  1900. 

god  save  the  queen. 
Roberts, 

Field-Marshal, 
Commanding-in-Chief  British  Forces,  South  Africa. 


ARMY  ORDERS— SOUTH  AFRICA 

Army  Headquarters,  Government  House, 
Bloemfontein,  March  15,  1900. 

I.  Civil  Population  to  be  unmolested. 

It  being  desirable  and  in  the  interest  of  both  the 
British    Government   and   the   inhabitants   of  this 

57 


War's  Brighter  Side 

country  that  all  residents  should  be  assured  that, 
so  long  as  they  remain  peaceably  disposed,  their 
civil  rights  and  property  will  be  respected,  it  is 
strictly  forbidden  that  any  private  property  should 
be  compulsorily  taken  possession  of  by  other  than 
the  authorised  Supply  Officers. 

All  articles  required  by  the  troops  must  be 
obtained  and  paid  for  in  the  ordinary  way,  and 
no  trespassing  or  interference  with  the  inhabitants 
will  be  permitted. 

These  instructions  apply  to  detached  bodies  of 
troops  as  well  as  to  the  Force  generally,  and  it  is 
especially  the  duty  of  all  officers  to  put  a  stop  to  all 
attempts  to  infringe  them. 

By  order, 

J.  W.  Kelly, 

A.-G.  for  C.  of  Staf!. 


ARMY  ORDERS— SOUTH  AFRICA 

Bloemfontein,  March  14,  1900. 

It  afifords  the  Field  Marshal  Commanding-in- 
Chief  the  greatest  pleasure  in  congratulating  the 
Army  in  South  Africa  on  the  various  events  that 
have  occurred  during  the  past  few  weeks,  and  he 
would  specially  offer  his  sincere  thanks  to  that 
portion  of  the  Army  which,  under  his  immediate 
command,  has  taken  part  in  the  operations  resulting 
yesterday  in  the  capture  of  Bloemfontein. 

On  the   1 2th   February  this  force  crossed  the 

58 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

boundary  which  divided  the  Orange  Free  State 
from  British  territory.  Three  days  later  Kimberley 
was  relieved.  On  the  15th  day  the  bulk  of  the  Boer 
Army  in  this  State,  under  one  of  their  most  trusted 
generals,  were  made  prisoners.  On  the  17th  day 
the  news  of  the  relief  of  Ladysmith  was  received, 
and  on  the  13th  March,  29  days  from  the  commence- 
ment of  the  operations,  the  capital  of  the  Orange 
Free  State  was  occupied. 

This  is  a  record  of  which  any  army  may  well  be 
proud — a  record  which  could  not  have  been 
achieved  except  by  earnest,  well-disciplined  men, 
determined  to  do  their  duty  and  to  surmount 
whatever  difficulties  or  dangers  might  be  encoun- 
tered. 

Exposed  to  extreme  heat  by  day,  bivouacking 
under  heavy  rain,  marching  long  distances  (not 
infrequently  with  reduced  rations),  the  endurance, 
cheerfulness,  and  gallantry  displayed  by  all  ranks  are 
beyond  praise,  and  Lord  Roberts  feels  sure  that 
neither  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  nor  the  British 
nation  will  be  unmindful  of  the  eflFort  made  by  this 
force  to  uphold  the  honour  of  their  country. 

The  Field  Marshal  desires  especially  to  refer 
to  the  fortitude  and  heroic  spirit  with  which  the 
wounded  have  borne  their  suflferings.  Owing  to 
the  great  extent  of  country  over  which  modern 
battles  have  to  be  fought,  it  is  not  always  possible  to 
afford  immediate  aid  to  those  who  are  struck  down ; 
-many  hours  have,  indeed,  at  times,  elapsed  before 
the  wounded  could  be  attended  to,  but  not  a  word 

59 


War's  Brighter  Side 

of  murmur  or  complaint  has  been  uttered ;  the 
anxiety  of  all,  when  succour  came,  was  that  their 
comrades  should  be  cared  for  first. 

In  assuring  every  officer  and  man  how  much  he 
appreciates  their  efforts  in  the  past.  Lord  Roberts  is 
confident  that,  in  the  future,  they  will  continue  to 
show  the  same  resolution  and  soldierly  qualities, 
and  to  lay  down  their  lives,  if  need  be  (as  so  many 
brave  men  have  already  done),  in  order  to  ensure 
that  the  war  in  South  Africa  may  be  brought  to  a 
satisfactory  conclusion. 

By  order, 
(Sd.)  W.  F.  Kelly, 

Major-General. 

Deputy-Adjutant-General,  for  Chief  of  Staflf. 


ARMY  ORDERS— SOUTH  AFRICA 

Army  Headquarters,  Government  House, 

Bloemfontein,  March  i6,  1900. 
I.  Telegrams. 

The  Field  Marshal  Commanding-in-Chief  has 
great  pleasure  in  publishing  the  following  telegrams 
which  have  been  received : — 

{a)  From  Her  Majesty  the  Queen :  "  Accept 
my  warmest  congratulations  for  yourself  and 
those  under  you  on  your  great  success.  Trust  all 
wounded  doing  well." — V.  R. 

{b)  From  His  Excellency  the  High  Commis- 
sioner :  "  In  a  spirit  of  deep  thankfulness  I  congratu- 
late you  and  your  gallant  Army  on  the  rapidity  and 

60 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

completeness  of  success  which  has  attended  the 
recent  operations — crowned  by  the  occupation  of 
the  enemy's  capital." — Milner. 

(c)  From  the  Rear  Admiral  Commanding-in- 
Chief,  Simonstown :  "  My  personal  and  Navy's 
heartiest  congratulations  on  your  success." — Ad- 
miral. 

(d)  From  Chairman  of  the  London  County 
Council :  "  On  behalf  of  Metropolis,  whence  many 
of  your  brave  soldiers  have  been  drawn,  I  con- 
gratulate your  Lordship's  having  gloriously  reached 
a  point  which  brings  you  one  step  nearer  towards 
final  success  and  peace." — Dickinson,  Chairman  of 
the  London  County  Council. 

(e)  From  the  Lord  Provost  of  Glasgow :  "  The 
Corporation  of  Glasgow  in  Council  assembled  ofifer 
you  and  Her  Majesty's  troops  under  your  command 
their  hearty  congratulations  on  the  success  of  your 
operations,  culminating  in  your  occupation  in  the 
Capital  of  the  Free  State,  and  their  earnest  hope  for  a 
speedy  termination  of  the  War." — Lord  Provost. 
2.  Distinction. 

Referring  to  Army  Order  (of  March  ii,  1900),  it 
is  notified  for  information  that  Her  Majesty's  orders 
that  all  Irishmen,  whether  serving  in  Irish  Regi- 
ments or  not,  shall  be  allowed  to  wear  the  Sham- 
rock on  St.  Patrick's  Day. 
By  order, 

W.  Kelly, 

Major-General, 
Deputy-Adjutant-General. 

61 


War's  Brighter  Side 


Notice 

The  first  hundred  copies  of  our  last  issue — 
Saturday,  March  17,  were,  by  accident,  wrongly 
dated  under  the  title  on  the  front  page. 

The  Editors  are  willing  to  pay  Five  Shillings 
each  for  a  few  clean  copies  of  this  portion  of  the 
issue. 


THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  HORSE- 
STEALER 

(N.B. — This  article  is  privileged.  The  Provost  Mar- 
shal cannot,  therefore,  take  proceedings  against  the 
author.) 

When  somewhere  about  the  beginning  of  De- 
cember I  arrived  at  Modder  River,  I  think  I  may 
say  I  was  as  honest  as  the  generality  of  mankind. 
I  do  not  remember  any  incident  in  my  early  child- 
hood and  youth  which  could  in  any  way  have  been 
cited  as  a  proof  that  I  had  predatory  instincts.  At 
home  I  never  stole,  at  schools  I  never  stole,  at  Col- 
leges I  never  stole,  and  during  several  years  of 
wandering  about  the  face  of  the  globe  I  never  stole. 
But  since  I  accompanied  Lord  Roberts'  force  from 
Enslin  to  Bloemfontein  I  have  stolen  freely,  and  I 
as  freely  admit  it.  Why?  Ah,  the  answer  to  that 
question  involves  deep  ethical  considerations,  and 
cannot  be  answered  right  oflf.  Let  me  tell  my  tale, 
and  I  fancy  that  I  shall  receive  the  sympathy  of  most 

62 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

members  of  the  force,  and  even  the  Provost  Marshal 
will  no  longer  pine  to  hang  me. 

When  I  left  Enslin  I  was  the  proud  possessor  of 
three  fine  saddle-horses  and  two  decrepit-looking 
but  sturdy  cart-horses.  Now  I  have  to  hire  a  man 
to  repeat  daily  to  me  the  number  of  my  riding- 
horses,  and  I  drive  about  Bloemfontein  with  a 
spanking  team.  I  am  aware  that  this  confession 
will  make  the  Provost  Marshal's  hair  stand  straight 
on  his  head ;  but  let  him  have  a  little  patience.  Let 
him  think  what  a  glorious  thing  it  is  to  find  the  one 
horse-thief  in  the  army.  I  calculate  that  about 
5,000  horses  have  illicitly  changed  hands  during 
the  advance  from  Modder  River,  and  yet  I  have 
never  found  a  man  who  has  not  most  indignantly 
denied  the  merest,  slenderest  imputation  of  being 
concerned  in  a  horse  "  transaction."  Therefore — 
the  army  is  honest,  and  there  is  only  one  horse-thief 
in  it.  The  honour  of  the  force  is  saved,  and  I  am 
the  only  culprit.  This  is  centralisation  with  a 
vengeance,  and  no  longer  need  the  Provost  Marshal 
send  his  myrmidons  galloping  far  and  wide  in 
search  of  horse-thieves.  When  next  he  hears  of  the 
loss  of  a  horse,  let  him  come  to  me — the  only  thief. 
I  will  let  him  know  my  address  when  Martial  Law 
is  replaced  by  the  ordinary  procedure  of  justice. 

But  let  me  recount,  to  what,  I  hope,  will  be  a 
sympathetic  pubHc,  how  I  fell  from  honesty  into 
the  blackest  depths  of  dishonesty.  At  Jakobsdal, 
Messieurs  les  Boers  shot  my  finest  horse.  I  was 
grieved  naturally,  and  hurt,  too,  that  a  poor  non- 

6  63 


War's  Brighter  Side 

combatant  should  have  been  treated  so  cavalierly. 
But  '*  a  la  guerre  comme  a  la  guerre,"  I  whispered 
to  myself,  and  hoped  for  better  luck  next  time.  I 
followed  the  force  from  Jacobsdal  to  Klipkraal  and 
Paardeberg,  and  at  the  last-named  camp  I  awoke 
one  morning  to  find  my  sturdy  black  pony  had 
been  taken  quietly  from  under  my  very  nose.  I 
raved  and  stamped  and  swore  at  the  loss.  My  sym- 
pathetic black  boy  tried  to  console  me.  "  If  master 
like,"  he  said  "  I  go  catch  another  horse."  But 
so  high  and  pure  was  my  morality  at  that  time  that 
I  almost  thrashed  him  on  the  spot  for  daring  to 
make  such  a  suggestion.  I  walked  away  disconso- 
late, and  sought  a  friend  whose  ribboned  breast 
showed  that  he  had  seen  service  in  every  quarter  of 
the  globe.  His  answer  to  my  request  was  short  and 
simple.     "  Go  and  see  whether  he  is  picketed  with 

Horse  "  (wild  rhinoceri  will  not  drag  from  me 

the  name  of  that  gallant  regiment  of  M.I.).  I  went, 
and  there  conspicuously  displayed  in  the  front  rank 
of  the  tethered  horses  was  my  black  pony.     I  did 

not  hesitate,   but,   blessing  the   members   of  

Horse  for  so  kindly  caring  for  my  poor  wandering 
pony,  I  began  to  untie  the  ream  of  the  halter.  But 
the  watchful  eye  of  one  of  the  men  was  open,  and  I 
was  startled  to  hear  a  noise  at  my  side  say,  "  Well, 
upon  my  soul,  this  beats  cock-fighting.  You  come 
to  the  wrong  shop'  if  you  think  you  can  steal  a 
horse  from  this  regiment,"  and  he  roughly  took  the 
ream  out  of  my  hand. 

I  protested.    "  The  horse  is  mine,"  I  said,  "  Td 

64 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

know  him  anywhere."  "  Get  on,"  was  the  answer, 
*'  he  belongs  to  my  captain.  Why,  look  at  the 
brand."  And,  sure  enough,  on  my  poor  pony's 
quarters  were  three  big  letters  which  represented,  I 
suppose,  his  initials. 

But  I  was  in  no  way  cast  down.  To  go  and 
explain  to  the  officer  that  a  little  mistake  had  oc- 
curred was,  after  all,  quite  an  easy  matter,  and  I 
approached  the  gentleman  who  was  sitting  under  a 
mimosa  bush  having  breakfast.  I  explained  the 
matter  to  him,  and  asked  permission  to  lead  my 
property  home.  But  the  captain  roared  with 
laughter.  "  Lead  my  horse  home  ?  "  he  shouted  in 
another  burst  of  laughter.  "  I  like  that.  Why,  do 
you  know  that  the  dam  of  that  horse  belonged  to 
my  Uncle  Jim?  He  was  the  first  man  in  that  part 
of  the  country.  Why,"  and  again  he  laughed,  "  I 
remember  when  that  black  pony  of  mine  was  foaled. 
It  was  the  7th,  no — the  loth  of  October.  I  re- 
member quite  well,  for  three  weeks  after  we  had  a 
big  garden  party  and  all  the  ladies  fell  in  love  with 
the  little  beggar  because  he  ate  bread  and  butter 
from  their  hands  and  was  the  greediest  beggar  you 
ever  saw  after  chocolate  creams.  Why,  damme,  if  I 
didn't  take  that  pony  home  again,  I  believe  my  old 
governor  would  cut  me  ofif  with  a  shilling." 

I  stood  aghast.  What  a  fool,  what  a  sanguinary 
fool  I  was  to  go  and  make  such  a  mistake.  My 
apologies  were  ample,  humble  and  profuse.  But  as 
I  passed  the  horse  lines  again  I  could  not  help 
thinking  how  singularly  like  my  lost  pony  was  the 

65 


War's  Brighter '  Side 

animal  which,  as  a  foal,  so  amused  the  ladies  at  the 
garden  party. 

And  then  I  did  the  foolishest  thing  I  ever  did  in 
all  my  life.  I  bought  a  new  horse.  Twenty-four 
hours  afterwards  it  was  claimed  by  four  different 
officers,  and  I  narrowly  escaped  hanging  at  the 
hands  of  the  Provost  Marshal,  who  at  once  ordered 
me  to  return  the  animal  to  its  rightful  owner.  I  gave 
it  up  to  the  four  claimants,  and  let  them  decide 
among  themselves  the  question  of  ownership. 

And  now  I  had  but  one  pony  left — and  I  guarded 
it  as  the  apple  of  my  eye.  But  again  the  Fates  were 
against  me,  and  it  went  ofif — I  do  not  for  a  mo- 
ment suggest  that  it  was  taken  ofi.     Again  I  tried 

's   Horse  and   all   the   Regular  and   Irregular 

Corps  in  the  force,  and  was  indignantly  rebuked 
for  daring  to  look  for  a  stray  horse  in  their  lines. 
And  so  I  was  reduced  to  walking  to  and  fro  at  Paar- 
deberg  Camp.  But  one  fine  afternoon,  returning 
across  the  huge  endless  plain,  I  was  nearly  ridden 
down  by  a  subaltern,  and  as  I  glanced  at  the  reck- 
less rider  I  saw  that  he  was  riding  my  pony.  I 
shouted  and  yelled  to  him  to  stop,  which  he  did. 

"  You  are  riding  my  pony,"  said  I. 

"  I'm  not,"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

"  But  Fm  sure  of  it." 

"  So  am  I." 

"  Well,  you're  wrong  this  time.  That  pony  is 
mine.  I've  had  him  for  three  months  and  I  know 
him  as  well  as  I  know  my  own  boots." 

But  there  was  never  a  blush  on  the  face  of  the 

66 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

subaltern.  The  pony  he  rode  was,  he  admitted,  of 
a  very  common  type  as  regards  colour  and  height. 
And  he  discussed  at  great  length  the  difficulty  of 
recognising  horses.  He  told  us  that  one  of  the 
greatest  horse-dealers  in  London  failed  to  recognise 
a  horse  that  he  had  himself  ridden  a  whole  year. 
And  then  he  drowned  me  in  dates.  The  pony  he 
was  riding  was  bought  for  the  remount  of  Decem- 
ber 13th,  kept  at  Stellenbosch  till  January  4th,  ar- 
rived at  De  Aar  on  January  6th,  was  used  there  by 
a  staff  officer  who  did  not  like  him  and  sent  him  up 
to  Orange  River  on  February  ist.  On  February 
5th  he  became  the  property  of  the  subaltern,  who 
appeared  to  have  tethered  the  beast  at  night  to  his 
waist,  so  positive  was  he  that  "  he  had  never  lost 
sight  of  the  pony  since." 

What  could  I  say?  I  couldn't  call  him  a  liar, 
for  he  was  a  tall,  well-made  subaltern,  and  he  might 
have  knocked  me  down,  so  I  let  him  ride  my  pony 
away,  and  I  trudged  home  to  my  camp  beside  the 
river. 

Early  next  morning  I  collected  all  the  servants 
and  I  addressed  them  as  follows  :  "  I  have  not  got 
a  single  riding-horse  left,  and  I  want  some ;  go  and 
get  some." 

It  was  a  laconic  speech,  but  wonderfully  effect- 
ive. By  five  o'clock  that  afternoon  three  grand 
beasts  were  standing  under  the  shelter  of  the  river 
bank  close  to  my  camp,  undergoing  the  different 
processes  of  hogging,  tail-cutting,  dyeing  and  other 
forms  of  transformation  used  by  horse-stealers.     In 

67 


War's  Brighter  Side 

ten  days  I  could  have  mounted  a  whole  troop  of 
cavalry.  I  will  confess  that  I  was  a  bit  frightened, 
when,  at  five  o'clock  one  morning,  they  brought  me 
two  magnificent  chargers,  for  I  recognised  them  as 
the  property  of  the  Commander-in-Chief.  But  al- 
though I  delayed  His  Excellency's  departure  to 
Kimberley  for  an  hour,  I  succeeded  in  sending  them 
back  to  his  lines  unperceived. 

I  now  possess  a  splendid  stud  of  saddle-horses. 
I  find  it  so  difficult  to  feed  them  all,  however,  that 
it  is  my  intention  to  ofifer  them  for  sale  next 
Wednesday.  The  conditions  of  the  sale  are  usual 
ones,  but  it  is  to  be  distinctly  understood  that  if 
any  person  dares  to  claim  one  of  the  animals  as  his 
own  he  will  be  turned  out  of  the  enclosure  with 
ignominy. 


TO  THE  SOLDIERS'  POET 

BY    B.    CHARLES    TUCKER 

So  you've  come,  Mynheer  Kiplin',  so  you've  come, 

Wot  a  chap  you  are  to  foller  up  the  drum, 

S'pose  yer's  gwine  to  make  some  verse. 

Well,  there's  lots  wot  does  it  worse, 

You'd  'ave  made  a  better  Laurrytte  than  some. 

We  'ave  read  your  latest  rimin'  in  the  "  Friend," 

But  it's  finished  up  too  soon  toward  the  end. 

But  the  paper's  raither  small. 

Sure  it's  'ardly  none  at  all. 

If  'twere  larger  now  'twould  be  the  bigger  friend. 

68 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

Now  I  arsks  yer,  Mister  Kiplin',  ain't  yer  proud 
Of    the    "  absent-minded    beggars,"    how    they've 

ploughed 
Through  'ard  ground  to  "  Bobsfontein,'* 
Dorp  of  late  departed  Steyn, 
Ain't  yer  proud  of  this  great  ragged  Kharki  crowd  ? 

Glad  to  see  yer,  Mister  Kiplin'  and  the  "  boys." 
Old    Bloemfontein   never    knew    such   times — and 

noise. 
There's  paradin',  drillin' — and 
Every  night  we  gets  the  band, 
And  there's  nothin'  now  our  'appiness  alloys. 


A  SERIOUS  MATTER 

BY    PERCIVAL    LANDON 

Horse-stealing  is  becoming  a  grave  scandal.  It 
constitutes  the  one  blemish  upon  the  otherwise 
excellent  military  regime  that  has  been  firmly 
but  unobtrusively  imposed.  From  their  grazing 
grounds,  from  the  rail  in  front  of  the  Club,  from  the 
actual  hands  of  Cape  boys  leading  them  to  or  from 
their  lines,  horses  have  been  stolen  with  as  little 
compunction  as  though  they  had  been  found  graz- 
ing on  the  veldt. 

In  some  cases  marks  have  been  obliterated  and 
manes  and  tails  cropped  by  the  thieves  in  the  en- 
deavour to  conceal  the  identity  of  the  animal,  and 
it  is  our  duty  to  ask  that  an  example  shall  be  made 

69 


War's  Brighter   Side 

of  any  person  found  in  the  possession  of  a  horse 
not  his  own,  or  from  which  such  marks  or  brands 
have  been  recently  obHterated,  or  upon  which  others 
have  been  recently  imposed. 

It  must  be  apparent  to  any  man  of  sense  that  a 
horse  which  is  offered  to  him  by  any  person,  white 
or  coloured,  for  a  nominal  sum,  is  a  horse  which 
that  boy  or  person  has  no  right  whatever  to  possess 
or  attempt  to  sell,  and  any  man  purchasing  under 
these  circumstances  must  be  held  to  be  an  accom- 
plice in  the  theft. 

It  is  earnestly  to  be  hoped  that  in  felling  neces- 
sary timber  for  the  use  of  the  troops  all  particularly 
fine  or  ornamental  trees  will  be  spared.  This  dis- 
trict is  sufficiently  well  wooded  to  supply  otherwise 
all  requirements,  and  depends  largely  upon  its  tim- 
ber for  its  attractiveness. 

Mr.  Kruger  was  being  sped  from  the  late  Presi- 
dency when  he  recently  visited  the  front  near 
Gallaiskop  and  Osfontein,  and  President  Steyn's 
parting  remark  was  "  Mind  the  British  don't  catch 
you,  or  you'll  get  a  better  place  in  St.  Helena  than 
I."  It  is  hardly  necessary  now  to  remind  the  late 
President  Steyn  that  many  a  true  word  is  spoken 
in  jest. 

It  is  not  a  little  oflfensive  to  the  ordinary  British 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  that  a  native  should  be 
parading  the  Market  Square  in  the  red  tunic  of  the 

70 


We  Begin  to  Feel  at  Home 

Soldiers  of  the  Queen.  Yet  this  was  to  be  seen 
yesterday  afternoon  when  the  pipes  were  skirling 
their  martial  strains,  to  the  delight  of  all  and  sundry. 
The  name  of  the  regiment — Shropshire — was  plain- 
ly in  evidence  on  the  shoulder  strap. 

Lord  Roberts's  entry  into  Bloemfontein  narrow- 
ly missed  marking  another  of  those  historical,  dra- 
matic episodes  such  as  Cronje's  Day  afforded.  The 
British  withdrawal  from  the  Orange  Sovereignty 
Territory  actually  took  place  on  March  ii,  1846,  the 
proclamation  being  dated  February  23rd  of  the 
same  year.  The  Queen's  soldiers  re-entered  this 
town  on  March  13th,  only  missing  what  would  have 
been  a  wonderful  coincidence  by  less  than  forty- 
eight  hours. 


PROCLAMATION 

TO   THE   BURGHERS   OF   THE   ORANGE    FREE   STATE 

In  continuation  of  the  Proclamation  which  I 
issued  when  the  British  troops  under  my  command 
entered  the  Orange  Free  State,  in  which  I  warned 
all  burghers  to  desist  from  any  further  hostility,  and 
undertook  that  those  of  them  who  might  so  desist, 
and  were  staying  in  their  homes  and  quietly  pur- 
suing their  ordinary  occupations,  would  not  be 
made  to  suffer  in  their  persons  or  property  on 
account  of  their  having  taken  up  arms  in  obedience* 
to  the  order  of  their  Government,  I  now  make 
known  to  all  burghers  that  I  have  been  authorised 

71 


War's  Brighter  Side 

by  the  Government  of  Her  Most  Gracious  Majesty 
the  Queen  to  offer  the  following  terms  to  those  of 
them  who  have  been  engaged  in  the  present  war : — 
All  burghers  who  have  not  taken  a  prominent 
part  in  the  policy  which  has  led  to  the  war  between 
Her  Majesty  and  the  Orange  Free  State,  or  com- 
manded any  forces  of  the  Republic,  or  comman- 
deered or  used  violence  to  any  British  subjects,  and 
who  are  willing  to  lay  down  their  arms  at  once,  and 
to  bind  themselves  by  an  oath  to  abstain  from  fur- 
ther participation  in  the  war,  will  be  given  passes 
to  allow  them  to  return  to  their  homes,  and  will  not 
be  made  prisoners  of  war,  nor  will  their  property  be 
taken  from  them. 

Roberts, 

Field  Marshal, 
Commanding-in-Chief    Her    Majesty's    Forces    in 

South  Africa. 
Government  House,  Bloemfontein, 
15th  March,  1900. 


72 


CHAPTER  V 

Sentry  Stories 

Obnoxious  Natives — The  Australian  Correspond- 
ent— More  Love  Letters 

"  The  Friend  "  of  March  20th  contained 
five  advertisements  for  stolen  horses,  one  of 
which  described  the  favourite  horse  of  one  of 
the  editors;  picturesque  justice,  some  will  say, 
for  our  light  and  trifling  attitude  toward  the 
growing  evil  of  horse-lifting.  The  editorial  of 
the  day,  "  Greater  Britain,"  was  one  that  I  wrote, 
and  the  note  of  it  was  this:  "  It  has  been  said 
that  each  of  the  preceding  centuries  during  a 
long  period  of  European  history  has  ended  in  a 
great  war.  This  one  which  closed  the  nineteenth 
century  is  not,  and  will  not  become,  great,  as 
wars  are  measured.  But  it  will  be  recorded  as 
phenomenally  important  in  having  given  birth  to 
Greater  Britain." 

We  had  been  offering  five  shillings  each  for 
copies  of  the  ''  curio  "  numbers  of  March  i6th. 
We  now  raised  the  ofifer  to  ten  shillings  a  copy. 

73 


War's  Brighter  Side 

A  paragraph  in  the  paper  stated  that  a  native 
(negro)  poHce  force  had  been  estabhshed  in 
town,  with  badges  bearing  the  letters  ''  B.N.P.'* 
"  These  police,"  we  said,  "  have  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  with  white  people." 

A  few  words  upon  the  subject  of  the  natives 
will  not  be  amiss.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
even  as  the  British  troops  were  entering  Bloem- 
fontein  the  negroes  were  engaged  in  looting  a 
semi-public  Boer  building.  Lord  Roberts  felt 
obliged  to  stop  the  triumphal  advance  and  order 
his  staff  to  drive  the  rufifians  away.  Some  noble 
lords  carried  out  the  order.  After  we  had  estab- 
lished ourselves  in  the  town  the  negroes  were 
included  with  the  white  people  in  an  order  re- 
quiring them  to  have  passes  when  they  entered 
or  left  the  town,  and  in  order  to  be  out  of  doors 
after  nightfall.  They  deeply  resented  this,  after 
making  themselves  as  obnoxious  as  they  were 
ridiculous,  by  their  complaints.  They  said  that 
they  had  always  been  friendly  to  the  English,  and 
had  hated  the  Boers  for  the  way  they  had  mal- 
treated the  blacks,  but  that  it  seemed  the  English 
were  little  better  than  the  Boers. 

The  truth  is  that  from  Capetown  to  Bloem- 
fontein  they  had  traded  upon  a  hatred  of  their 
Dutch  masters,  and,  whether  this  was  genuine 
or  assumed,  they  had  endeavoured  to  turn  it  to 
their  account  in  every  way.  Everywhere  that  I 
74 


Sentry   Stories 


found  them  they  were  too  much  impressed  by 
the  importance  which  they  assumed,  and  which 
we  too  often  encouraged.  We  paid  them  many 
times  what  was  paid  to  ''  Tommy  Atkins,"  and 
employed  them  in  preference  to  the  poor  whites. 
In  return  they  were  often  lazy,  often  impudent, 
sometimes  treacherous.  I  personally  know  that 
they  were  welcomed  when  they  ran  from  the 
Boer  lines  to  ours,  and  I  also  know  that  they 
sometimes  ran  back  to  the  Boers  with  what  they 
had  learned.  The  Afrikanders  in  our  ranks 
and  in  our  employ  often  knocked  them  down 
for  impudence,  and  the  English  were  horri- 
fied; but  I  fancy  that  the  Afrikander  knew 
what  he  was  about  in  his  dealings  with  these 
people. 

Mr.  Gwynne,  in  this  day's  issue,  wrote  a  series 
of  parodies  of  the  despatches  of  the  correspond- 
ents of  all  the  leading  London  and  local  news- 
papers. It  was  the  purest  fun.  It  caricatured 
and  exaggerated  the  methods  of  each  of  us  so 
cleverly  as  to  make  the  series  altogether  laugh- 
able and  yet  so  as  to  suggest  something  recog- 
nisable in  each  man's  style. 

Mr.  F.  Wilkinson,  of  the  Sydney  Daily  Tele- 
graph, wrote  about  the  Australians  an  article  that 
is  here  reprinted.  A  correspondent  of  whose 
name  I  am  not  certain  continued  from  the  previ- 
ous day  an  account  of  the  expedition  to  the  Brit- 

75 


War's  Brighter  Side 

ish  forces  southward  of  us.  The  article  was  so 
interesting  and  full  of  local  and  military  colour 
that  I  wish  I  could  give  the  author  the  credit  he 
deserves. 

The  chief  event  of  the  day  was  the  receipt  of 
an  angry  answer  to  my  love  letter  to  Miss  Bloem- 
fontein.  Even  as  we  read  the  copy  we  supposed 
that  some  wag  in  the  army  had  tried  to  perpe- 
trate a  joke  upon  us,  but  Mr.  Buxton  came  in 
and,  finding  us  reading  the  letter,  said  that  he 
had  received  it  from  a  leading  man  of  Bloemfon- 
tein,  whose  talented  daughter  had  written  it. 
She  was  an  earnest  adherent  of  the  Boer  cause, 
and  expressed  her  sincere  sentiments  in  this  let- 
ter, in  which  she  waved  aside  my  protestations 
of  our  friendship  with  something  painfully  like 
scorn.  Her  name  was  given  to  us  in  confidence, 
and  we  published  her  letter  with  my  reply,  all 
agreeing  that  as  she  was  certain  to  write  another 
answer,  we  would  give  her  the  last  word,  and 
then  close  the  episode. 

We  were  able  on  this  day  to  announce  the 
establishment  of  a  regular  daily  train  service  to 
all  points  south.  The  country  below  had  been 
cleared  of  Boers,  but  the  bridge  at  Norval's  Pont 
was  still  a  wreck,  and  the  trains  ran  over  a  tem- 
porary structure.  Sir  Henry  Rawlinson  arrived 
in  Bloemfontein  and  took  up  his  quarters  at  the 
Residency  with  Lord  Roberts,  who  on  this  day 


Sentry  Stories 


announced  that  he  would  review  the  Naval  Bri- 
gade on  the  following  morning. 

We  published  these  three  informing  para- 
graphs : — 

Note:  the  price  of  whiskey  is  lis.  a  bottle,  on 
a  rising  market. 

A  French  Canadian  member  of  the  R.C.R.  was 
doing  sentry-go  one  night  at  Enslin  (Graspan). 
The  countersign  for  the  night  was  "  Halifax."  Pres- 
ently there  came  a  strolling  soldier  whom  our  gallant 
Canadian  promptly  challenged. 

"Who  go  dare?" 

"  Friend." 

"  Advance,  fren,  and  pace  on — and  say  *  Haver- 
sack ' — all  is  vale." 

There  were  many  such  sentry  stories  in  cir- 
culation in  the  army.  Another  one  was  to  the 
effect  that  a  Yorkshireman  Having  to  halt,  and 
demand  the  countersign  of  a  man  he  knew 
very  well,  acquitted  himself  of  his  task  in  these 
words:  "  Halt!  who  goes  there.  Say  '  Majuba,* 
and  toddle  along — isn't  it  all  blooming  non- 
sense? " 

Finally,  there  was  this  one  other  paragraph 
especially  full  of  the  local  colour  of  our  sur- 
roundings— 

A  captured  Free  Stater  tried  to  impress  a  sense 
of  his  importance  upon  his  captor  by  declaring  that 

77 


War's  Brighter  Side 

he  was  a  Field  Cornet.  "I  don't  care  if  you're  a 
field  big  drum.  You're  my  prisoner,  and  you'd 
better  be  very  civil  and  come  on." 


THE  AUSTRALIAN  CORRESPONDENT 

BY    F.    WILKINSON 

For  one  very  obvious  reason  war  corresponding 
has  not  had  very  much  of  a  vogue  in  past  years 
with  Australian  journalists  ;  in  fact,  the  fighting 
business  altogether  has  been  very  much  neglected. 
As  a  group  of  colonies  or  a  nation — which  we  hope 
to  be  almost  immediately — we  are  not  old  enough  to 
invite  anyone  else  to  put  up  his  hands,  and  we  are 
too  far  away  to  take  more  than  a  languid  interest  in 
other  peoples'  scraps.  We  did  send  a  contingent 
and  a  few  corespondents  to  the  London  Show,  in 
'86  I  think  it  was,  but  we  only  got  there  in  time  to 
return  and  make  ourselves  look  rather  ridiculous. 
Since  then  the  "  professional  correspondent "  might 
have  starved  and  pined  comfortably  to  death  for  all 
the  work  he  would  be  likely  to  get.  He  couldn't 
have  kept  up  the  lecturing  dodge  with  such  long 
intervals  between  scraps.  We  didn't  even  think  it 
worth  while  to  send  to  the  Philippine  show,  al- 
though it  occurred  almost  at  our  very  door. 

You  see,  in  some  of  our  Australian  legislatures 
we  groan  under  the  inflictions  of  what  are  known 
as  "  labour  parties,"  and  labour  parties  all  the  world 
over  have  a  rooted  abhorrence  of  anything  which 

78 


Sentry  Stories 


tends  to  the  maintenance  of  law  and  order.  Labour 
parties,  moreover,  are  generally  made  up  of  men 
who  have  before  their  accession  to  Parliament  led 
some  big  anti-capitalistic  agitation,  and  they  know 
what  the  sensation  is  to  find  themselves  confronted 
with  rifles,  and  even  bayonets.  Consequently  they 
dislike  the  military  element  with  a  mortal  dislike. 
They  make  a  dead  set  at  raw  military  estimates 
every  year,  and  laugh  to  scorn  the  military  spirit. 
From  all  of  which  may  be  inferred  that  war  corre- 
sponding with  us  has  not  hitherto  been  one  of  the 
most  lucrative  of  professions.  Rich  squatters  don't 
choose  it  as  a  career  for  their  sons,  and  poor  people 
have  still  the  Banks  and  the  Church  and  Parliament 
to  fall  back  upon.  Those  of  us,  therefore,  who  for 
our  sins  have  been  sent  out  of  this  show,  come  as 
mere  "  rooineks,"  or  "  new  chums,"  to  use  the  Aus- 
tralian equivalent.  Strange  to  say,  the  only  one 
amongst  us  who  was  also  in  the  Soudan  received  a 
mortal  wound  the  other  day  near  Rensburg. 

There  is  this  to  be  said,  however,  in  extenua- 
tion of  our  greenness  to  the  business,  that  our 
early  training  is  of  the  sort  which  ought  to  make 
for  efficiency,  the  Australian  pressman,  like  his 
cousin  over  here,  is  a  child  of  the  bush.  His  "  beat  '* 
covers  some  thousands  of  square,  solid,  British 
miles.  One  day  he  is  out  in  the  wild  West  among 
wilder  shearers,  beside  whom  the  average  Tommy 
is  a  mere  circumstance.  There  is  trouble  in  station 
sheds,  and  wild,  uncivilised  war  between  unionists 
and  blacklegs.     Blue  metal  in  chunks  buzzes  past 

7  79 


War's  Brighter  Side 

one's  ears  as  thick  as  Mauser  bullets  at  Magersfon- 
tein ;  railway  carriages  are  quickly  reduced  to  ruins, 
huts  and  grass  fired  for  miles  round  ;  mobs  of 
unionists  carry  havoc  on  the  luckless  blackleg  and 
let  slip  the  dogs  of  war — always  blue  metal.  This  is 
the  stuff  on  which  the  Australian  pressman  is  fed  up. 

Next  day  he  may  be  sent  up  to  the  flooded 
north:  a  river  has  burst  its  banks  and  submerged 
some  twenty  miles  of  settled  country  ;  occupants 
of  single  story  houses  find  themselves  high  and  dry 
on  their  roof-tops,  others  have  sought  shelter  in 
trees  ;  their  household  goods  float  gaily  down- 
stream alongside  dead  cattle  and  horses.  Rescue 
parties  in  flood  boats  pull  frantically  from  house 
to  house  carrying  provisions  and  clothing  for 
shivering  women  and  children.  These  floods  occur 
quite  frequently,  and  your  pressman .  soon  learns 
to  live  for  weeks  almost  up  to  his  waist  in  water. 
He  manages  to  boil  his  "  billy ''  in  the  bottom  of 
his  boat  without  springing  a  leak.  He  will  make 
excellent  "  damper "  with  arrowroot  and  Epsom 
salts  if  he  can't  get  flour  and  baking  powder.  He 
will  ride  anything  which  will  go  on  four  legs,  and 
after  he  has  been  lost  on  the  trackless  bush  a  time 
or  two,  he  won't  always  travel  in  a  circle. 

He  has  a  standing  engagement  in  an  annual 
encampment  where  S,ooo  or  6,000  troops  are  con- 
centrated for  nine  days'  continuous  training,  and 
when  general  orders  ate  issued  beforehand  notifying 
the  exact  time  and  spot  where  an  engagement  will 
take  place,  between  so-and-so  representing  the  en- 

80 


Sentry  Stories 


emy,  whose  position  will  be  indicated  by  red  flags, 
and  such  and  such  regiments  representing  the  at- 
tacking force,  who  may  be  distinguished  by  blue 
flags.  We  manage  those  things  better  at  Easter 
manoeuvres  than  we  do  on  service.  Here,  they 
don't  send  round  cards  of  invitation  to  correspond- 
ents when  a  fight  is  going  to  take  place.  One  has 
to  chase  round  the  country  after  it,  fighting  staff 
officers  on  the  lines  of  communication  all  the  way. 
But  that  is  another  story.  Since  our  present  illus- 
trious Commander-in-Chief  has  taken  over  the  con- 
duct of  the  campaign  we  haven't  been  able  to  raise 
much  of  a  grumble,  and  what  happened  prior  to 
this  is  forgotten — at  least  for  the  time. 
F.  Wilkinson, 

Sydney  Daily    Telegraph. 


MISS  BLOEMFONTEIN'S  ANSWER 

TO    MR.    ENGLISHMAN A    LOVELESS    LETTER 

Come,  tall  Mr.  Englishman,  and  sit  down  beside 
me,  but  for  the  love  of  heaven,  do  not  look  into  my 
eyes,  lest  they  scorch  you  with  a  fiery  "  hate  of 
hate."  The  blue  of  mine  eyes  may  be  perilously  near 
that  blue  which  men  have  named  electric,  and  such 
an  electric  shock  of  scorn  would  they  shoot  that  you 
would  wish  yourself  amidst  the  turmoil  of  war 
again,  some  of  whose  bolts  and  bombs  have  taken 
the  lives  of  our  fathers,  brothers,  friends !  You  will 
not  wonder  then  that   I   do  not   like  your  whole 


War's  Brighter  Side 

army  or  any  part  thereof,  although  it  may  have  done 
me  the  great  and  unwished-for  honour  of  liking  me 
— or  you,  the  conqueror  of  the  land,  which  is  mine 
by  the  same  right  as  your  little  island  is  yours — the 
right  of  old  tradition  which  is  so  great  a  factor  in  the 
history  of  nations,  and  in  which  our  land  abounds ; 
the  right  of  residence  which  has  been  ours  since  our 
peacefully  ruled  and  hitherto  prosperous  little  Free 
State  was  created — the  right  of  love  for  the  land  of 
our  birth — the  right  of  pride  in  our  despised  beaux, 
with  their  homespun  suits  and  lavish  beards  and 
whiskers,  who  have  gone  out  to  fight  with  such 
bravery  for  their  cause  and  country. 

Surely,  Mr.  Englishman,  you  of  all  men  should 
be  able  to  appreciate  this  factor  in  them,  you  who 
pride  yourself  on  being  the  bravest  man  of  the 
bravest  of  living  nations.  Were  this  factor  missing 
in  them,  would  you  not  have  been  here  five  long 
months  ago?  Surely  you,  I  say,  should  be  able 
to  overlook  such  small  matters  as  the  bad  cut  of 
their  coats  and  the  length  of  their  beards.  You 
should  know  that  greatness  does  not  lie  in  outward 
seeming. 

Please  do  not  say  "  Miss  Bloemfontein  tripped 
out  to  meet  us  so  enticingly;"  say,  rather,  "little 
Miss  Uitlander,"  who  has,  as  you  rightly  think,  by 
no  means  hitherto  scorned  our  homespun  youths, 
and  to  whom  we  extended  a  loving  hand  when  she 
came,  and  who  now,  in  return  for  this,  unnecessarily 
flaunts  your  colours  in  our  faces,  and  welcomes  you 
too  kindly.     Much  bitter  sorrow  was  there,  oh  sir, 

82 


Sentry  Stories 


when  you  entered  this  loved  home  of  ours ;  I  and  my 
sisters,  who  felt  as  would  your  English  dames,  were 
another  William  Conqueror  to  take  their  island 
home  from  them,  lay  in  dumb  anguish  and  writhed 
when  the  word  went  forth,  "  we  have  fallen  into 
bondage,"  *'  our  enemy  hath  us  in  his  grasp  " — and 
our  cup  of  bitterness  was  more  than  full. 

We  do  not  cling  to  our  old  love,  who  left  us  with 
much  misgiving  to  your  tender  mercies.  Mr.  Eng- 
lishman, fain  would  he  have  stayed  to  protect  us, 
but  that  he  had  his  command  to  go; — and  this  is 
another  thing  which  you,  who  think  so  much  of  dis- 
cipline, should  be  able  to  appreciate.  Though  for 
fear  of  your  displeasure  we  must  hide  our  feelings, 
you  are  hateful  to  us,  oh  slayer  of  our  brothers  and 
taker  of  our  home ! 

We  will  not  forget,  Mr.  Englishman,  and  are 
truly  grateful  to  you,  that  you  behaved  to  us  with 
common  courtesy,  and  stood  aside  to  let  us  pass ;  but 
surely  you,  the  politest  of  polite  men,  would  not  take 
credit  for  that,  which  should  be  the  birthright  of  all 
gentlemen.  We  dwell  not  in  times  of  Sabine  sister- 
hoods, good  sir ! 

And  if  little  Miss  Uitlander  bathe  you  in  smiles, 
and  lisp  pretty  nothings  into  your  much-astonished 
ear,  call  but  to  mind  that  she  comes  from  your  own 
"  far  countree,"  and  has  here  learned  this  way  of 
welcoming  the  conqueror. 

I  am  no  Boadicea,  say  you.  Oh,  sir,  you  mis- 
take grievously.  I  would  smite  you  with  mine  own 
hands,  were  I  able.     Did  you  perhaps  not  catch  a 

83 


War's  Brighter  Side 

glimpse  of  me  in  General  Cronje's  laager,  whither  I 
went  to  share  the  danger  with  my  brother,  and  cheer 
him  in  his  arduous  task  ? 

True  it  is  that  homely  comfort  abounds  in  our 
cottages,  and  should  it  not  be  so?  Perhaps  there 
was  a  time  too  when  your  stately  sister  did  not  scorn 
to  keep  house,  instead  of  attending  theatres,  soirees, 
musicales,  at-homes.  Evidently,  Miss  Uitlander  for- 
got the  divine  music  of  Queen's  Hall  and  Covent 
Garden,  when  she  crowded  to  do  justice  to  the  awful 
and  untuneful  melodies,  to  which  your  English 
bandsmen  treated  her  on  the  Market  Square.  But 
you  see  "  It  is  so  long  since  she  left  '  home,'  and  it 
is  sweet  to  hear  those  sounds  which  come  straight 
from  dear  old  England."  I,  sir,  stopped  my  ears 
with  cotton  wool  (for,  whatever  Miss  Bloemfon- 
tein  is,  she  is  musical,  and  even  had  I  been  pleased 
to  see  you,  I  could  never  have  allowed  myself  to 
be  tortured  with  those  fragments  of  the  divine  art). 
Poor  Pan !  he  stood  afar  on  the  topmost  steeple  of 
the  Dutch  Church,  and  played  his  pipes  and  wept, 
and  had  you  not  been  so  absorbed  in  "  tripping  to 
your  gay  tunes,"  you  might  have  heard  faintly  steal- 
ing over  our  ancient  towers  "  Heeft  burghers  t'lied 
der  Vrijheid  aan,"  while  the  organ  within  our 
"  piously  Presbyterian  "  edifice  echoed  the  anthem, 
which  was  caught  up  by  the  instrument  in  your  ex- 
clusively English  cathedral,  and  Miss  Bloemfontein 
heard  the  echo  and  was  comforted. 

And  now,  Mr.  Englishman,  do  you  fully  realise 
that  I  am  not  pleased  to  see  you,  that  I  hate  to  have 

84 


Sentry  Stories 


you  here ;  I,  a  real  daughter  of  the  soil  ?  And  if  to- 
morrow I  could  turn  you  out,  I  would  do  so  joy- 
ously, while  little  Miss  Uitlander  would  stand  by, 
her  lovely  eyes  moist  with  grateful  tears,  and 
whisper,  ''  That  is  right,"  or  perhaps  push  you  with 
her  tiny  left  hand,  while  she  once  more  extended 
her  right  to  my  badly  dressed  brothers,  as  they 
came  over  the  top  of  the  Bloemfontein  Hill ! 

The  gulf  between  the  angry  past  and  the  still 
more  angry  present  will  never  be  bridged,  Mr.  Eng- 
lishman. You  have  made  Afrikanderdom  by  fight- 
ing us,  and  have  awakened  in  our  breasts  the  knowl- 
edge that  we  are  of  another  sort  than  yourselves. 
Only  now,  with  the  "  Schwanenlied  "  sounding  in 
our  ears,  do  we  feel  what  it  is  to  have  a  country — 
to  be  a  nation ! 

Miss  Bloemfontein. 


Our  Reply  to  the  Lady 

Dear  Miss  Bloemfontein, — If  there  is  doubt 
about  which  young  lady  it  is  who  has  made  us  wel- 
come here,  there  is  none  at  all  about  the  genuine- 
ness of  your  letter  and  yourself.  Its  sheets  exhale 
the  subtle  perfume  of  the  mimosa  flower,  its  strong, 
free  writing  reveals  the  confidence,  health,  and 
high  spirits  of  the  graceful  rider  of  the  veldt! 
Thank  God  (and  thank  you  also,  my  dear)  there  is 
no  line  or  phrase  of  resistance  to  our  suit  in  all  your 
letter  but  has  a  tender  phrasing  or  carries  a  compli- 

85 


War's  Brighter  Side 

ment — so  that  we  know  you  do  not  dislike  us  a 
tenth  so  much  as  you  hate  the  thought  of  seeming 
light-of-love,  of  feehng  that  we  have  dared  to  pity 
you,  of  fancying  we  think  you  are  to  be  won  for  the 
mere  asking. 

Sweetheart,  that  was  a  clumsy  letter  of  ours  if  it 
rufifled  your  maidenly  sensitiveness  with  such  mis- 
apprehensions. Henry  V.  was  not  the  only  one,  or 
the  last,  of  us  Englishmen  who  could  war  with  men 
better  than  he  could  woo  women.  And  as  Katharine 
looked  through  young  Hal's  rough  armour  into  his 
warm  and  loyal  heart,  so  we  ask  you  to  do  with  us. 

Well,  well !  so  it  was  your  cousin,  Miss  Uitlander, 
whose  azure  eyes  and  twining  fingers  sent  me  into 
my  rhapsody  of  love,  while  you,  the  true  Katharine, 
the  real  princess,  have  held  back,  hid  in  some  leafy 
bower  of  your  pretty  capital.  Ah,  well,  it  was  not 
her  hand  that  took  our  heart  captive.  It  was  not 
her  eyes  that  slew  us.  What  we  loved  was  the 
essence  of  your  soul  and  spirit  which  breathed  upon 
us  from  your  park-like  seat,  from  your  trees  and 
gardens,  from  the  pretty,  happy  houses  of  your 
subjects.  It  was  you  we  loved,  dear  neighbour, 
you  whom  we  have  admired  through  all  your  youth 
and  never  quarrelled  with  and  never  known  to  be 
at  fault. 

As  I  wrote  on  Saturday,  we  still  stand  aside  and 
look  upon  your  charms  of  peaceful  domesticity,  all 
garlanded  for  your  bridegroom.  Still,  too,  we  see 
your  selfish,  scheming  guardian  of  the  past  fleeing 
from  the  wreck  and  ruin  into  which  he  has  plunged 

86 


Sentry  Stories 


your  people.  And  we  see  your  sworn  champions  in 
similar  flight,  leaving  you  forlorn,  deserted.  It  is 
eminently  womanly  of  you  to  defend  these  faithless 
gallants  rather  than  solicit  pity  for  yourself.  It  is 
the  true  maidenhood  in  you  which  makes  you  retire 
to  your  bower  until  you  have  forced  us  to  acknowl- 
edge your  value  and  earn  your  love.  If  we  mis- 
judged you  and  fancied  you  had  tripped  out  to  put 
your  hand  in  ours,  it  was  only  because  we  were  so 
eager  and  so  smitten.  We  like  you  better  as  you  are, 
shy  and  modest,  proud  and  pure. 

That  deft  touch  of  your  pen  upon  the  quality  of 
our  music — it  was — I  mean  to  say  we  find  no  fault 
in  you  for — but,  no,  we  may  not  be  disloyal,  even  to 
our  pipes.  It  was  the  best  we  had  to  offer,  and 
when  better  comes  from  home  we  fancy  that  even 
you  will  cease  to  barricade  your  pearly  ears  against 
it.  We  shall  enjoy  hearing  Pan  set  your  sighs  to 
melody.  We  promise  not  to  drive  him  away;  he 
shall  ever  play  your  songs  just  as  he  trills  the  lays  of 
ever  so  many  fair  maidens  who  throng  around  our 
Queen,  and  who  remember  the  chains  she  has 
stricken  from  their  limbs  without  for  an  instant  for- 
getting the  traditions  which  still  knit  each  to  her 
past  and  her  kindred  in  so  many  far  lands. 

You  speak  of  the  "  great  honour  "  of  our  liking 
you.  You  extol  our  bravery.  You  admit  our 
"  tender  mercies  "  and  our  love  of  order.  You  say 
you  will  not  forget  our  courtesy  to  your  people  or 
our  modesty.  You  call  us  "  the  politest  of  polite 
men  " — ah,  dear  little  Afrikander,  we  treasure  each 

87 


War's  Brighter  Side 

word  in  each  of  those  sentences.  We  cannot  help 
taking  heart  of  hope.  If  you  can  speak  of  us  so 
fair  to-day,  when  the  whispers  of  your  old  lover 
still  sound  in  your  ears,  what  may  we  not  expect  in 
time  to  come  ?  We  will  not  try  to  hurry  your  heart, 
but  we  warn  you  we  shall  melt  it.  For  we  love 
you,  and  there  is  no  selfish  prompting,  no  hope  of 
mercenary  gain  in  our  affection.  We  love  you  be- 
cause you  are  irresistible,  even  with  your  dimpled 
little  hand  clenched,  and,  perhaps,  partly  because  of 
the  lightning  that  flashes  in  your  pretty  eyes. 

Julian  Ralph. 

JOINING  HANDS  WITH  GATACRE  AND 
CLEMENTS 

On  Thursday  morning  last  a  small  force  was 
despatched  by  train  from  Bloemfontein  to  the 
South,  in  order  to  open  up  the  country,  to  find 
out  the  dispositions  of  the  enemy  between  here  and 
the  Orange  River,  and,  if  possible,  to  join  hands 
with  the  British  forces  now  operating  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Stormberg  and  Colesberg. 

The  force  consisted  of  4  guns  and  66  men  of  the 
84th  Battery,  R.F.A.,  21  mounted  men  of  Roberts* 
Horse  Bodyguard,  6  Grahamstown  MJ.,  a  section 
of  the  M.R.E.,  and  2  battalions  of  Guards  (3rd 
Grenadiers  and  ist  Scots),  totalling  about  2,100  men 
and  120  horses,  besides  vehicles  and  mules  sufficient 
to  make  the  force  mobile  if  required. 

We  moved  off  in  5  trains,  the  first  being  a  short 

88 


Sentry  Stories 


"  breakdown  "  pilot  train  in  charge  of  Lieutenant 
Mozley,  R.E.,  carrying  an  advanced  party  of  51 
Grenadiers  under  Capt.  Clive.  Ten  minutes  after, 
a  full  train  of  Grenadiers,  carrying  in  addition 
Major-General  Pole-Carew,  C.B.,  commanding  the 
expedition,  and  his  Staff ;  and  the  other  three  trains 
carried  the  remainder  of  the  force. 

We  were  in  hopes  that  there  would  be  some 
parties  of  the  enemy  between  us  and  the  Orange, 
especially  as  Edenburg  was  reported  occupied ; 
and  the  country  between  that  and  the  river  ought 
to  have  been  swarming  with  Boers  opposing  the 
advance  of  Generals  Gatacre  and  Clements.  But, 
as  it  turned  out,  we  had  no  chance  of  loosing  of¥ 
even  one  round,  and  our  progress  was  peaceful  and 
unwarlike  in  the  extreme. 

At  Kaalspruit  we  met  Lieut.  Russell  Brown, 
R.E.,  who  had  just  returned  off  an  adventurous  trip 
per  train  to  Edenburg,  which  he  had  reconnoitred  in 
the  dark  when  it  was  full  of  Boers.  After  that  we 
steamed  slowly  along,  and  reconnoitred  Kaffir  and 
Riet  River  Bridges,  with  a  view  to  their  occupation 
if  necessary. 

As  it  was  quite  possible  that  stray  Boers  might 
walk  into  the  telegraph  offices  behind  us  and  read 
off  any  messages  going  through,  we  transferred  the 
instruments  to  the  safer  keeping  of  the  detachments 
of  Scots  Guards  we  left  at  the  bridges.  The  discon- 
necting of  wires  at  one  of  the  stations  was  carried 
out  by  a  highly  distinguished  and  zealous  party  of 
Grenadier  officers,  headed  by  the  CO.  himself,  but 

89 


War's  Brighter  Side 

the  result  was  somewhat  unfortunate,  as  messages 
refused  to  pass  through  for  some  considerable  time 
afterwards.  Edenburg  was  approached  at  dusk,  but, 
thanks  to  a  friend  who  told  us  that  the  enemy  had 
evacuated  it,  we  had  no  need  to  use  caution  in  so 
doing.  On  the  contrary,  we  were  warmly  welcomed 
on  coming  to  a  standstill,  and  found  a  deputation  of 
three  ready  to  hand  over  the  keys  of  the  town  and  to 
ask  for  protection. 

The  General  received  the  deputation,  consisting 
of  the  Landdrost,  Mr.  Fourie,  Mr.  Groenwoud  and 
the  Clerk  of  the  Council,  graciously,  but  demanded, 
as  a  guarantee  of  good  faith,  that  all  arms  and  am- 
munition in  the  town  and  district  should  be  given  up. 
This  was  agreed  to,  and  messengers  were  despatched 
to  the  Commandant  and  two  Field-cornets,  who 
lived  some  way  off,  to  come  in  next  morning  at  6 
and  arrange  the  matter  with  the  General.  A  mes- 
senger was  also  sent  to  warn  the  Fauresmith 
commando  of  400  to  500  men,  which  was  approach- 
ing the  town,  that  they  had  better  disperse,  as  the 
British  were  in  possession  and  might  fire  on  them 
if  they  came  too  near.  The  commando  had,  how- 
ever, kindly  anticipated  the  purport  of  this  message, 
and  had  already  melted  away  on  its  own  initiative. 

Edenburg  is  a  pretty  little  town,  well  supplied 
with  water  and  provisions  of  all  sorts.  But  its  chief 
posesssion  must  be  acknowledged  to  be  a  veritable 
Don  Juan,  to  judge  from  the  number  of  affectionate 
letters  addressed  to  him  that  were  found  among  the 
budget  seized  at  the  Post  Office.    This  young  man, 

90 


Sentry  Stories 


who  shall  be  nameless,  must  have  broken  the  hearts 
of  numberless  charming  ladies.  Letters  from  every 
part  of  the  Free  State  and  a  large  portion  of  the 
Transvaal,  some  couched  in  most  amorous  language, 
others  upbraiding  him  for  faithlessness,  all  signed 
by  names  of  the  fair  sex  (mostly  without  the  addition 
of  a  surname),  brought  a  hot  blush  to  the  brow  of 
the  unfortunate  officer  whose  duty  it  was  to  scan 
their  contents.  It  was  past  i  a.m.  before  he  had 
finished  his  work,  but  the  fair  writers  may  rest 
assured  that  their  missives  will  all  reach  their  desti- 
nation in  time,  and  their  secrets  remain  locked  in 
the  breast  of  that  particular  Staff  Officer. 

Early  next  morning  the  town  was  awakened  by 
a  series  of  violent  explosions,  which  caused  several 
timid  people  to  imagine  that  a  serious  battle  was 
raging.  It  was,  however,  caused  by  the  burning  of 
67,000  rounds  of  ammunition  which  had  been  taken 
from  the  gaol  and  court  house  and  which  were  being 
destroyed  by  order.  Five  hundred  rifles  were  also 
taken,  all  of  them  Martinis,  except  twenty-one. 

After  arranging  with  Commander  Cloete  and  the 
Field-cornets  van  der  Merwe  and  Roule  the  details 
of  handing  over  the  rifles,  &c.,  to  their  districts,  the 
General  proceeded  on  his  way,  and  soon  arrived  at 
Jagersfontein  Road.  Here  we  were  met  by  a  Union 
Jack  and  patriotic  inhabitants,  but  rapidly  steamed 
on  to  Springfontein,on  hearing  that  General  Gatacre 
had  crossed  the  Orange  River  at  Bethulie,  and  was 
expected  that  morning  at  Springfontein  Junction. 

We  arrived  at  this  place  at  ten  o'clock  and,  to  our 


War's  Brighter  Side 

secret  joy,  found  no  signs  yet  of  a  British  occupa- 
tion. We  heard,  however,  that  an  engine  had 
brought  two  EngHsh  officers  thither  from  BethuHe 
on  a  short  visit  the  night  before. 

Shortly  after  arriving  mounted  scouts  of  Mont- 
morency's Horse  made  their  appearance,  and  were 
followed  by  General  Gatacre,  who  rode  up,  some- 
what surprised  to  find  us  already  in  possession. 
Cordial  greetings  were  exchanged  between  the  Gen- 
erals, and  after  a  short  stay  we  pushed  on  in  the 
direction  of  Norval's  Pont,  which  we  were  assured 
had  been  evacuated  by  the  enemy  24  hours  before. 

On  the  strength  of  this  information  we  left  the 
three  rear  trains  behind,  and  pushed  on  through 
rapidly  steepening  country  to  Prior's  Siding.  Here 
we  were  enthusiastically  welcomed  by  the  only  in- 
habitants, two  Russian  Jews,  who  so  far  allowed 
their  feelings  to  overpower  their  pockets  as  to  pre- 
sent the  General  with  a  box  of  excellent  cigars  in 
honour  of  the  new  flag. 

Another  half  hour  through  a  horrid  defile 
brought  us  to  Donkerpoort,  and  at  this  uninviting 
station  we  found  the  vanguard  of  General  Clements' 
force.  These  had  crossed  the  Orange  River  by 
means  of  a  pontoon  bridge,  flung  across  the  river 
2-J  miles  below  the  great  bridge,  and  consisted  of  a 
squadron  of  Inniskillings,  the  4th  Field  Battery, 
250  Australians,  and  some  Infantry. 

As  we  steamed  slowly  ahead,  the  extended  lines 
of  horsemen  advancing  over  the  plain  raised  cheer 
after  cheer,  and  we  were  moreover  honoured  by  a 

92 


Sentry  Stories 


patriotic  officer  dismounting  and  taking  a  historical 
snapshot  with  the  ever-present  kodak  at  the  advanc- 
ing engine.  This  latter,  one  should  add,  was 
adorned  by  4  officers  sitting  just  over  the  cow- 
catcher, who  obtained  an  excellent  view  of  the  sur- 
rounding country.  Their  admiration  was,  however, 
somewhat  tempered  by  the  knowledge  of  a  widely 
spread  report  that  at  certain  places  there  lurked 
under  the  line  masses  of  deadly  dynamite.  Con- 
siderable caution  was  at  first  observed  at  the  cul- 
verts ;  but  when  the  engine-driver  assured  us  that 
dynamite  was  hidden  at  one  place  only,  and  that 
place  known  to  him,  we  bade  him  proceed  until 
within  50  yards  of  the  spot,  and  then  halt.  When 
within  half  a  mile  of  the  bridge,  we  asked  whether 
the  fatal  place  was  near  at  hand.  Judge  of  our 
mingled  horror  and  relief  when  we  heard  that  the 
miscreant  driver  had  not  recognised  the  spot  until 
within  5  yards  of  it,  and  had  driven  unwillingly  over 
it  at  full  speed ! 

Except  for  a  short  glimpse  a  mile  back,  one 
cannot,  from  a  train,  see  the  bridge  broadways  on. 
It  was,  therefore,  difficult  to  estimate  the  exact 
damage  that  had  been  done  as  we  approached  it, 
even  when  we  had  walked  out  as  far  as  we  could 
go,  and  actually  stood  over  the  gap.  The  wreck  is 
terrific;  3  spans  and  one  pier  had  been  blown  up 
and  lay  in  the  water  100  feet  below,  connected  with 
the  standing  part  of  a  steep  and  tangled  wreckage 
of  beams,  girders,  and  iron.  Three  months  at  least 
must  elapse  before  the  bridge  can  be  thoroughly 

93 


War's  Brighter  Side 

in  working  order  again ;  but  a  little  bird  has 
whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  writer  that  by  an  in- 
genious series  of  connections  from  bank  to  bank 
a  very  large  amount  of  stores  will  shortly  be  pass- 
ing across.  Those  Burghers  who  refused  twice, 
when  ordered,  to  blow  up  the  bridge,  were  wise  men 
in  their  generation,  for  its  destruction  will  mean  a 
much  more  serious  loss  to  the  Free  State  than  to  the 
British  troops. 


94 


CHAPTER  VI 

Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

Kipling's   regard   for   "  Tommy   Poetry  "  —  Our 
English  as  it  was  set  up  by  Boer  compositors 

"  The  Friend  "  was  an  afternoon  paper  pub- 
lished at  three  or  four  or  five  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing, according  as  the  Dutch  compositors  chose 
to  get  it  out.  We  editors  went  to  our  tiny  edi- 
torial room  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  worked  until  lunch  time — one 
o'clock — writing,  seeing  visitors,  correcting 
proofs,  and  reading  manuscripts.  What  I  have 
called  "  seeing  visitors "  mainly  consisted  in 
turning  away  private  soldiers  who  came  for 
copies  of  the  paper.  Though  we  posted  notices 
that  ours  was  the  editorial  room,  and  that  papers 
were  to  be  had  at  Barlow's  stationery  shop, 
"Tommy"  would  insist  upon  coming  to  us; 
therefore  we  gave  up  a  large  part  of  our  time 
to  sending  him  away,  now  yelling  at  him,  now 
bursting  into  profanity,  and  anon  pleading  most 
8  95 


War's  Brighter  Side 

politely  that  we  were  neither  newsboys  nor  rail- 
way bookstall  keepers. 

What  I  have  called  "  reading  manuscripts  " 
was  largely  the  work  of  examining  the  poetry  of 
this  same  Mr.  Atkins,  who,  fired  by  the  genius  of 
Mr.  Kipling,  is  sometimes  a  better  poet  than 
you  would  think,  sometimes  a  worse  poet  than 
you  can  imagine,  but  is  generally  a  poet — of  one 
sort  or  another. 

We  had  good  ''  Tommy  "  poets  in  our  ranks, 
wherefore,  when  Mr.  Kipling  came,  he  insisted 
that  all  soldier  poetry  should  be  religiously  read, 
and  the  best  of  it  pubhshed.  He  pored  over 
miles — but  we  are  coming  to  him  presently.  At 
the  idea  of  re-writing  and  improving  Tommy's 
verse  he  was  pained,  and  when  Mr.  James  Barnes, 
on  one  occasion,  spent  half  a  day  in  putting  a 
"  Tommy "  poem  into  Queen's  English,  Mr. 
Kipling  was  righteously  indignant,  and  spent 
an  hour  in  getting  it  back  to  Tommy's  ver- 
nacular. 

The  rest  of  the  time  of  all  except  the  man 
who  wrote  the  leader  of  the  day  w^as  spent  in 
correcting  the  typographical  errors  of  the  Dutch 
compositors,  who,  by  the  way,  could  make  more 
numerous  and  more  dreadful  mistakes  in  type 
than  ever  an  intelligence  officer  made  in  getting 
news  of  the  enemy.  The  consequence  was  that 
we  often  took  up  the  first  paper  that  reached  us 
96 


EPfl0NT  AND 
LARI^  NEST. 


discrimin|^ting  )4oer  having  laid 

hestful  of  valuable  and  infyrming 

eggs,  fled   across  the  horizon   under 

pressure     of    necessity    le^ing    his 

nest  in  a  secluded  spot  where  it  was 


THE  STAFF. 


4- 


/^^^ 


discovered  by  a  disinterested  observed    fff"  I 
who  reported  the  same  to  an  (nte^li-   tJ  /  / 

gjprceTfficer.     The  latter  arriving  at     '  ^_  / 

his  leisure  with  a   great  pompopit^y      ^  <.  »  i 
said  "  Jee  me  hatch  ^     ^nd  sitting        j   lo\ 
down  without  reserve  converted  the  &1 
entire   output   into    /n    unnece88anu__/__-.^ — 
omelette.      After   the   mess   was   re-         »  i 

moved,    the    disinterested    observer    ^/ 
observed  : — "  )iad  you  approached  this 
matter  in  another  spirit  you  might 
h*ve  obtained  valuable  information." 
"That,"  ^iifil^ replied  the  intelligence 

j/  i^flBcer,   "  shis  your   nj^rrow-minded 

/    prejudice.      Besides    I    am    morally 


^/ 


certain  that  those  eggs  c«(me  out  of- 

^/    mf  re's  nest."      "  It  is  now  too   lilte" 

/     to   enquire "   said    the    disinterested 

(^1  observer,  "  fnd  that  is  a  pity."     "  But 

/  am    I    not    an    intelligentofl 

S JgJ      Pl^id   the    /ntelligenoe   4ffficer      "Of 

^^  ^1      that  there  can  be  no  tw^  opinions," 

said      the      disinterested      observer. 

Whereupon  he  was  sent  down. 

Moral.      Do  not' teach,  the /intelli- 
gence to  Jmtch  eggs 


fc^/ 


A  Corrected  "Proof"  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 

(Giving  a  glimpse  of  the  struggle  between  the  editors  and  the  Dutch 
compositors.) 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

from  the  presses,  and  with  a  sigh  assured  each 
other  that  it  was  almost  wholly  given  up  to  bad 
verse  and  printers'  errors. 

At  noon  during  these  early  days  one  of  us 
would  gather  up  all  the  proofs  that  we  could  get 
from  the  printers,  and  march  over  to  Lord  Stan- 
ley's ofifice  to  have  them  censored.  He  was  so 
considerate  and  liberal  that  this  soon  proved  a 
mere  formality.  I  think  he  must  have  regarded 
the  eccentric  but  interesting  journal  as  a  child 
of  his  own,  or  at  least  as  one  whose  parentage  he 
would  be  too  polite  to  dispute  if  Lord  Roberts 
claimed  it.  We  used  to  hear  how  very  much 
the  great  Field  Marshal,  also,  was  interested  in 
it;  how  eagerly  he  secured  his  copy  every  day, 
and  how  much  he  Uked  all  that  it  contained.  A 
visitor  at  the  Residency  told  us  that  one  after- 
noon Lord  Roberts  saw  an  officer  reading  The 
Friend,  and  called  to  one  of  his  stafif:  ''  I  see  a 
man  in  there  reading  The  Friend.  How  is  it 
I  have  not  had  my  copy?  "  The  officer's  paper 
proved  to  be  a  copy  of  an  earlier  number,  so  that 
the  Field  Marshal's  wounded  pride  was  healed. 
But  we  Hked  that  story;  we  liked  it  very  much 
indeed. 

Our  fifth  number,  published  on  March  21st, 

began  with  Mr.  Gwynne's  hearty  leader  on  Rud- 

yard  Kipling,  who  was  expected  to  reach  Bloem- 

fontein  on  that  day.    Mr.  Gwynne  also  wrote  one 

97 


War's  Brighter  Side 

of  his  characteristic  satirical  articles  on  ''  The 
Soberest  Army  in  the  World."  Mr.  Landon  con- 
tributed a  lively  and  picturesque  narrative  of 
the  principal  feat  our  despatch  riders  had  per- 
formed up  to  that  time,  and  I  perpetrated  a 
modest  bit  of  reporting  on  South  Africa's  at- 
tractions— an  article  of  greater  interest  here 
and  now  than  it  was  then  and  for  our  army 
readers. 

We  had  made  it  known  that  private  soldiers 
would  be  charged  only  a  penny  for  the  paper, 
the  original  threepence  being  demanded  solely 
of  officers.  In  this  way  we  hoped  to  earn  a 
greater  profit  than  by  shutting  out  of  our  trade 
the  humble  private,  to  whom  a  threepence  (a 
"  ticky,"  as  it  is  called  in  Africa)  sometimes  ap- 
pears as  big  as  a  cart-wheel.  But  our  new  plan 
brought  us  a  lot  of  trouble — especially  of  the 
kind  you  feel  when  you  know  you  are  being  done 
out  of  something  and  yet  cannot  help  yourself. 
The  fact  was  that  the  officers  encamped  at  a  dis- 
tance sent  in  their  servants  for  their  papers,  and 
these  messengers,  being  privates,  only  paid  a 
penny  for  each  paper.  Then,  again,  the  officers 
were  dressed  so  nearly  like  the  men  that  the 
newsboys  and  assistants  in  Barlow's  shop  could 
not  distinguish  them  apart,  and  charged  many  of 
the  officers  the  penny  of  the  private.  This  an- 
noyed us,  because  we  were  intent  upon  making 

98 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

as  much  money  as  possible  in  order  to  turn  over 
a  handsome  sum  to  a  soldier  charity  when  we 
should  end  our  stewardship — for  not  a  penny  did 
we  mean  to  keep  for  ourselves.  Mr.  Landon 
wrote  a  strenuous  appeal  to  the  officers  to  help 
us  to  get  our  just  dues.  To  the  same  paper  Mr. 
A.  B.  Paterson,  of  the  Sydney  Herald,  contrib- 
uted a  very  clever  bit  of  verse,  entitled,  ^'  Fed 
up.''  He  was  one  of  the  contributors  of  whom 
we  were  most  proud — and  justly  so. 

In  this  day's  paper  there  were  seventeen 
notices  of  horses  lost — presumably  stolen,  but  a 
close  scrutiny  of  all  horse-flesh  was  in  progress, 
and  in  the  same  column  with  the  wails  of  the 
robbed  was  a  notice  of  the  recovery  of  twenty- 
one  horses — none  of  them  being  the  same  as  any 
of  the  lost  that  were  advertised  for.  The  Pro- 
vost-Marshal, Major  R.  M.  Poore,  on  this  day 
announced  that  every  native  with  a  horse  must 
carry  a  certificate  proving  that  the  animal  was 
his  own.  He  also  declared  that  every  person  pos- 
sessing any  property  of  the  Orange  Free  State 
Government — horses,  mules,  oxen,  or  anything 
else — must  quickly  hand  it  up. 

Lord  Roberts  reviewed  the  Naval  Brigade  on 
the  preceding  day,  and  we  had  a  report  of  it 
showing  how  splendidly  Captain  Bearcroft's 
command  appeared.  The  late  Admiral  Maxse, 
out  there  on  a  visit,  witnessed  the  review,  and 
99 


War's  Brighter  Side 

said  that  it  was  the  first  one  he  had  attended 
since  the  Crimea,  when  he  acted  as  naval  A.D.C. 
to  Lord  Raglan.  This  review  gave  us  all  one  of 
our  rare  chances  of  seeing  Lord  Roberts,  for  he 
went  out  but  little,  and  even  at  such  times  hur- 
ried directly  to  his  destination,  returning  with  as 
little  loss  of  time.  Every  man,  of  every  rank, 
saluted  him,  and  he  was  scrupulously  careful  to 
return  the  salute  even  of  the  bugler  boys.  It 
was  said  to  be  surprising  to  note  how  many  men 
he  knew  of  all  ranks,  and  how  watchful  and  ob- 
servant he  was.  ''  You  managed  that  very 
cleverly,"  he  would  say  to  a  man  in  conflict  with 
unruly  horses;  or  he  would  reprove  a  soldier  for 
untidiness  in  dress.  Nothing  escaped  his  rest- 
less eyes. 

He  wore  no  decorations  of  any  kind,  and  I 
have  even  heard  it  said  that  not  every  coat  of  his 
was  decked  with  gilt  buttons — though  this  I  re- 
peat only  upon  hearsay.  I  can  testify,  however, 
that  no  man  more  modest  and  making  less  of 
his  rank  was  in  his  army.  I  always  saw  him  in 
plain  khaki  with  that  badge  of  mourning  upon 
one  sleeve  which  gave  us  all  a  keener  thrust  in 
our  emotions  than  even  the  hardest  felt  losses 
of  comrades  and  acquaintances  which  befell  us 
all  so  frequently. 


ICO 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

THE    FRIEND. 

BLOEMFONTEIN,    MARCH   21,    I900. 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 

EDITORIAL    BY    H.    A.    GWYNNE 

To-day  we  expect  to  welcome  here  in  our  camp 
the  great  poet  and  writer,  who  has  contributed  more 
than  any  one  perhaps  towards  the  consolidation  of 
the  British  Empire.  His  visit  is  singularly  appro- 
priate. He  will  find  encamped  round  the  town  not 
only  his  friend  Tommy  Atkins,  but  the  Australian, 
the  Canadian,  the  New  Zealander,  the  Tasmanian, 
the  volunteer  from  Ceylon,  from  Argentine,  and 
from  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  He  will  see  the 
man  of  the  soil — the  South  African  Britisher — side 
by  side  with  his  fellow  colonist  from  over  the  seas. 
In  fact,  Bloemfontein  will  present  to  him  the  actual 
physical  fulfilment  of  what  must  be  one  of  his  dearest 
hopes — the  close  union  of  the  various  parts  of  the 
greatest  Empire  in  the  world.  His  visit,  therefore, 
will  have  in  it  something  of  the  triumph  of  a  con- 
queror— a  conqueror  who,  with  the  force  of  genius, 
has  swept  away  barriers  of  distance  and  boundary, 
and  made  a  fifth  of  the  globe  British,  not  only  in  title, 
but  in  real  sentiment. 

We,  belonging  to  that  portion  of  the  Press  to 
which  is  assigned  the  duty  of  witnessing  and  chroni- 
cling the  deeds  which  make  history,  extend  to  the 
illustrious   writer   a   welcome,   sincere   and   whole- 

lOI 


War's  Brighter  Side 

hearted.  We  feel,  all  of  us,  that  his  brush  alone  can 
do  complete  justice  to  the  wonderful  pictures  of  war 
which  we  have  been  privileged  to  see.  We,  who 
have  been  w^ith  Tommy  Atkins  on  many  a  hard  cam- 
paign, have  long  ago  come  to  love  him  for  his  quiet, 
unostentatious  courage  and  his  patient  endurance  of 
hardships,  but  we  feel  that  Mr.  Kipling  alone  can 
translate  to  the  world  the  true  inwardness  of  Tom- 
my's character.  We  feel  sure  that  the  Mulvaneys, 
the  Leroyds,  and  the  Ortherises  will  welcome  him 
as  heartily  as  we  do,  and  we  are  hopeful  that  this 
fresh  meeting  of  Tommy  Atkins  and  perhaps  the 
only  man  who  rightly  understands  him,  will  be  pro- 
ductive of  fresh  pictures  of  the  British  soldier. 


THE  SOBEREST  ARMY  IN  THE  WORLD 

BY    H.    A.    GWYNNE 

The  force  which,  under  the  command  of  Field- 
Marshal  Lord  Roberts,  left  Enslin  and  occupied 
Bloemfontein  will  undoubtedly  be  known  in  history 
as  the  "  Sober  Army."  Never  before  in  the  history 
of  campaigning  has  there  been  known  such  an  ab- 
sence of  excess  in  the  way  of  drinking — and  eating 
too,  as  far  as  that  is  concerned.  Some  people  have 
dared  to  cast  aspersions  on  the  British  army  by  in- 
sinuating that  drunkenness  is  not  unknown  among 
its  members.  They  have  even  gone  further  and 
declared  that  officers  and  men  are  very  fond  of  their 
"  tot  "  or  their  ''  pint  "  or  their  whisky  and  soda.    I 

102 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

only  wish  some  of  these  calumniators  could  have 
accompanied  Lord  Roberts'  force.  They  would 
have  recanted  on  the  spot,  and  returned  home  con- 
vinced that  the  British  army  was  not  only  the  finest 
but  the  soberest  in  the  world. 

Their  excessive  sobriety  and  wonderful  self- 
restraint  in  the  face  of  temptation  rather  tempts  one 
to  delve  deep  down  for  the  psychological  reasons. 
I  have  myself  made  inquiries,  but  I  must  confess  that 
I  am  at  a  loss  for  a  real  reason.  My  firm  belief  is 
that  the  British  soldier  is  so  actuated  by  a  deep  sense 
of  duty  that,  having  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
hard  drinking  and  hard  fighting  were  incompatible, 
he  promptly  dropped  the  former  and  devoted  all  his 
energies  to  the  latter.  It  would  have  been  expected 
that  at  the  end  of  a  long,  dusty  march  the  men  would 
have,  immediately  after  being  dismissed,  made  a 
rush  for  the  canteen.  Nothing  of  the  sort.  They  sat 
down  to  tea  and  cofiPee  and  left  the  canteen  waiters 
kicking  their  heels  doing  nothing.  It  is  true  one  or 
two  soldiers  have  told  me  that  they  couldn't  find  the 
canteen,  but  the  majority  of  the  men  chose,  of  their 
own  free  will,  to  ignore  its  existence,  and  actually 
never  looked  for  it.  But  this  noble  continence,  this 
splendid  self-restraint  has  been  very  nearly  spoilt  by 
the  folly  and  wickedness  of  some  of  the  authorities. 
They  actually  issued  rum  to  the  men  at  intervals. 
Now  one  of  Tommy's  greatest  virtues  is  obedience. 
He  was  ordered  to  drink  rum  and  he  did  it — just  as 
he  advanced  against  a  kopje  spitting  forth  lead  when 
he  was  ordered.     But  the  task  of  swallowing  the 

103 


War's  Brighter  Side 

hateful  stuff  was  distasteful  in  the  extreme.  I  have 
seen  him  take  his  mug  and  get  his  tot  and  then  look 
at  his  officer  as  much  as  to  say,  "  must  I  really  take 
it  ?  "  The  officer's  answering  glance  was  invariably 
a  command  which  poor  Tommy  could  not  disobey, 
and  he  tossed  off  the  liquor  with  one  gulp  to  get  it 
over  all  the  quicker,  and  then  hold  his  mug  upside 
down  to  show  he  had  done  the  deed. 

One  would  have  thought,  indeed,  that  this 
wonderful  self-restraint  would  be  destroyed  in  the 
wild  rush  of  joy  with  which  the  army  was  filled  the 
night  that  Cronje  surrendered.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  The 
men  lying  on  the  soaking  ground  never  touched  a 
drop  of  alcohol,  although  many  would  say  that  the 
victory  of  our  arms  deserved  an  alcoholic  celebration. 
But  that  night  the  canteens  were  as  deserted  as  ever. 
One  man,  and  one  man  only,  fell.  He  was  an 
officer's  servant,  and  was  discovered  gloriously 
happy,  delightedly  drunk.  His  comrades  kept 
hitting  and  punching  him  and  asking  him  where 
he  had  found  the  liquor,  it  evidently  being  their 
firm  intention  to  destroy  it.  He  refused,  however, 
to  answer  a  word  until  his  master  found  him  and, 
seizing  him  by  the  shoulder,  shook  him,  and  ex- 
claimed with  eager  face,  "  Good  Heavens,  Jones, 
where  the  devil  did  you  get  it  ?  "  And  Jones  an- 
swered drunkenly  to  an  eager  crowd  of  expectant 
officers  and  men,  "  Meth'lated  Shpirits,  Shir.  I'sh 
found  it  in  waggon." 

Whereupon  ten  eager  voices  asked — 

"  Is  there  any  left?  " 

104 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

*'  No ;  finished  whole  blooming  lotsh." 
And  then  his  comrades  gently  kicked  him  for 
a  cur. 


CORRESPONDENCE 

To  the  Editors  of  *'  The  Friend  " 

Gentlemen, — I  have  read  with  much  of  interest 
one  article  in  one  of  your  last  issues  touching  the 
steal  at  the  horses. 

As  a  veteran  of  the  war  of  1870,  I  think  that  this 
would  be  of  interest  towards  much  of  your  abonnes 
if  I  should  write  some  words  of  my  proper  experi- 
ences. 

It  appears  by  the  article  in  the  number  of  The 
Friend  of  the  19th  that  the  writer  desires  to  carry 
to  the  observation  of  those  who  themselves  find  in 
authority,  that  by  their  proper  negligence  he  has 
been  forced  to  become  that  which  you  other  English 
call  jail-bird. 

Now  I  have  made  the  war  of  1870.  I  was 
dragon.  I  have  suffered  the  same  privations  and  I 
have  smelt  the  same  difficulties  on  the  question  of 
horses,  but  never  I  not  have  failed  of  myself  to  find 
without  horse  of  war.    This  without  myself  to  boast. 

I  not  desire  to  blame  the  author  of  this  article 
praiseworthy,  who,  as  he  appears  to  wish  to  himself 
efface,  in  myself  offering  as  counsellor,  but  since,  as 
to  myself  seems  that  he  wishes  to  hold  one  sale  of 
his  animals  that  it  is  all  this  that  he  has  of  most 
imbecile  of  to  announce  on  the  roofs  his  crime. 

105 


War's  Brighter  Side 

An  officer  of  dragons  in  1870, 1  was  having  at  the 
month  of  the  June  twenty  horses  of  the  first  quaUty, 
grand,  strong,  majestic  animals,  worthy  of  to  carry 
one  officer  of  dragons  in  battle  against  those 
canailles  of  Prussians. 

At  the  month  of  September  after  Sedan  he  not 
me  was  remaining  nothing,  and  I  not  was  having 
not  even  the  means  of  me  to  save  in  Belgium. 

What  to  do ! — Officer  French  not  is  able  not  to 
render  himself.  Ah !  not  know  I  not  the  anguish  of 
himself  to  find  without  horse.  What  have  I  done  ? 
To  steal,  no!  This  was  indignant  of  officer.  To 
buy,  no !  I  of  it  not  was  having  not  of  what.  I  was 
aperceiving  in  the  distance  one  horse  of  officer  of 
the  Estate  Major.  This  was  the  horse  of  my  poor 
friend  Gu-gu,  evidently  killed  or  gravely  blessed.  It 
if  not,  why  not  was  he  not,  the  brave  gar,  mounted 
on  his  horse,  directing  the  flight  ?  In  one  instant  I 
myself  was  launched  thereon  without  hesitation.  To 
save  the  horse  favourite  of  my  poor  friend  dead 
Gu-gu  was  my  first  thought.  In  rending  to  his 
corpse  this  little  service  I  was  rending  to  my  patrie 
one  service  again  more  grand.  I  myself  was  reserv- 
ing for  one  death  more  epouvantable.  Then,  since 
that  he  is  possible  of  to  find  the  horses  of  friends 
blessed,  for  what  himself  to  submit  at  the  stigma  of 
to  be  accused  of  to  be  thief.  More  late,  when  one 
wishes  to  sell  the  horses,  one  himself  finds  in  face  of 
one  difficulty  inextricable,  if  the  proper  proprietor 
himself  finds  upon  the  market. 

Gu-gu  I  have  found  more  late  in  Paris,  it  is  true, 

106 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

but  we  have  eaten  the  good  horse  together  Hke  good 
comrades. 

Agree  my  compliments  most  respected, 

M.  Vol  au  Vent. 

(The  Editors,  for  obvious  reasons,  divest  them- 
selves of  any  responsibility  for  the  opinions  held  by 
our  distinguished  Gallic  friend.) 


" FED  UP !  " 
The  Cavalryman's  Growl 

BY   A.    B.    PATERSON 

I  ain't  a  timid  man  at  all,  I'm  just  as  brave  as 

most; 
I'll  take  my  turn  in  open  fight  and  die  beside  my 

post. 
But  riding  round  the  whole  day  long  as  target  for  a 

Krupp, 
A-drawing  fire  from  koppies — well,  I'm  quite  Fed 

Up! 

There's  not  so  many  men  get  hit — it's  luck  that  pulls 

us  through, 
Their  rifle  fire's  no  class  at  all — it  misses  me  and 

you; 
But  when  they  sprinkle  shells  around  like  water 

from  a  cup 
From  that  there  bloomin'  pom-pom  gun — well,  I'm 

Fed  Up! 

107 


War's  Brighter  Side 

We  never  gets  a  chance  to  charge — to  do  a  thrust 

and  cut — 
I  think  ril  chuck  the  Cavalry  and  join  the  Mounted 

Fut. 
But,  after  all,  what's  Mounted  Fut?     I  saw  them 

t'other  day, 
They  occupied  a  koppie  when  the  Boers  had  run 

away. 

The  Cavalry  went  ridin'  on,  and  seen  a  score  of 

fights. 
But  there  they  stuck,  those  Mounted  Fut,  for  seven 

days  and  nights — 
For  seven  solid  days  and  nights — with  scarce  a  bite 

or  sup. 
So  when  it  comes  to  Mounted  Fut — well,  I'm  Filled 

Up. 

And  trampin'  with  the  Footies  ain't  as  pleasant  as  it 

looks — 
They  scarcely  ever  sees  a  Boer,  except  in  picture 

books. 
They  make  a  march  of  twenty  mile,  which  leaves  'em 

nearly  dead, 
And  then  they  find  the  bloomin'  Boers  is  twenty 

mile  ahead ! 
Each  "  Footy  "  is  as  full  of  fight  as  any  bulldog  pup, 
But  walking  forty  miles  to  fight — well,  Fm  Fed  Up ! 

So,  after  all,  I  think  that  when  I  leave  the  Caval-ree 
ril  have  to  join  the  Ambulance,  or  else  the  A.S.C. 

1 08 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

There's  always  tucker  in  the  plate  and  coffee  in  the 

cup, 
But  bully  beef  and  biscuits — well,  I'm  fair  Fed  Up ! 


MISS  BLOEMFONTEIN 

There  appears  to  be  some  general  misapprehen- 
sion as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  letter  written  by 
"  Miss  Bloemfontein "  in  our  issue  of  yesterday. 
The  Editors  wish  to  state  that  the  communication  in 
question  was  written  by  a  lady,  a  member  of  a  well- 
known  family  in  this  city,  and  undoubtedly  reflects 
with  wit  and  frankness  the  feeling  of  many  of  those 
to  whom  the  abandonment  of  this  place  to  the  Brit- 
ish forces  has  been  a  bitter  disappointment. 


THE  GREAT  RIDE 

BY     PERCIVAL     LANDON 

The  newspapers  of  the  world  published  a  notice 
of  the  surrender  of  Bloemfontein  on  the  evening  of 
Thursday,  March  15th. 

The  Boers  had  wrecked  the  telegraph  line  to  the 
south  of  the  town;  to  the  west  the  field  telegraph 
was  useless ;  yet  perhaps  not  one  reader  in  ten  mil- 
lions stayed  a  moment  to  wonder  how  the  news  had 
reached  them. 

When  Lord  Roberts  left  Doornboom  the  entire 
expedition  was  en  Vaire.  Telegraphic  communication 

109 


War's  Brighter  Side 

was  at  the  mercy  of  the  passing  ox  or  the  malicious 
passer-by,  rain  and  wind  were  almost  equally  de- 
structive, and  the  inevitable  breakdown  occurred. 
The  wire,  aerial  or  earth-borne,  was  useless  in  forty- 
eight  hours,  and,  so  far  as  outer  communication 
was  concerned,  Bloemfontein  and  all  around  and 
within  it  might  have  been  Tristan  d'Acunha. 

But  the  London  papers  published  the  full  ac- 
count of  the  surrender  on  the  second  day  after  the 
capitulation. 

The  manner  in  which  news  was  sent  to  the  Eng- 
lish papers  may  perhaps  be  of  interest.  It  must 
be  remembered  that  there  was  then  no  communica- 
tion with  the  south.  It  was  impossible  to  pick  up 
the  cut  wire  north  of  Norval's  Pont.  The  line  from 
Kimberley  to  Boshof  lies,  even  as  we  write,  in  a  cat's 
cradle  on  the  veldt.  There  was  no  option,  the 
telegrams  must  be  sent  through  Kimberley  and  by 
despatch  riders. 

Perhaps  it  is  truer  to  say  that  one  or  two  Lon- 
don papers  did  so,  for  a  certain  number  relied — and 
with  justice — on  the  recuperative  powers  of  Captain 
Faussett  and  his  myrmidons  of  the  wire. 

To  ride  a  hundred  miles  across  the  veldt  against 
time,  and  against  at  least  two  other  competing 
riders,  through  the  enemy's  country,  and  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice,  is  not  the  least  exciting  occupation 
that  can  be  chosen  by  a  light-weight  searching  for 
a  new  sensation. 

It  combines  the  certainty  of  hardship  and  dis- 
comfort with  the  possibility  of  being  shot ;  and  over 

no 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

and  above  all  is  the  pressing  need  of  saving  every 
minute  of  time. 

Three  despatch  riders  set  out  from  Bloemfon- 
tein  during  the  evening  of  Tuesday  or  the  earliest 
dawn  of  Wednesday.  First  in  order  of  starting 
was  the  Times  messenger,  second  that  of  Renter's 
Agency,  third  came  the  "  angelos  "  of  the  Daily 
Mail. 

From  Bloemfontein  to  Kimberley  is,  as  we 
have  said,  a  distance  of  a  hundred  miles.  It  is 
best  understood  by  a  Londoner  by  suggesting  the 
comparison  that  he  should  be  compelled  to  ride 
to  Hereford  every  time  he  wished  to  despatch  a 
telegram. 

Out  from  the  isolated  city  the  messengers 
went,  making  their  way  in  the  darkness  or  in  the 
dawn  over  the  red  slushing  tracks  that  had  suf- 
fered the  steady  downpour  of  the  night's  rain, 
till,  by  whichever  road  they  had  moved  out  of 
Bloemfontein,  they  met  at  the  battle-ground  of 
Driefontein. 

From  that  point  onwards  the  struggle  became 
keen,  and  the  breakdown  of  a  horse  meant  a  delay 
that  might  perhaps  be  reckoned  in  days  rather  than 
hours.  The  public  that  glances  casually  at  the  tele- 
grams of  their  morning  papers  does  not  often  realise 
the  importance  of  a  few  minutes  to  the  correspond- 
ents whose  work  they  are  reading.  In  this  case, 
besides  the  ordinary  delay,  the  lonely  riders  that 
were  making  way  across  the  veldt  had  to  spur  them 
on  the  risk  of  finding  the  Field  Telegraph  repaired 

9  III 


War's  Brighter  Side 

before  they  could  reach  the  Diamond  City,  and  the 
cable  blocked  with  messages  sent  over  their  heads 
from  Bloemfontein. 

Early  in  the  great  race  the  Times  rider  met  with 
disaster.  The  horse  he  rode  fell,  and  though  the 
injury  seemed  slight  enough  at  the  time,  never 
properly  recovered  itself,  causing  a  delay  of  some 
hours  before  the  next  relay  could  be  reached. 

But  the  Daily  Mail  was  still  more  unlucky. 
Starting  last  of  all,  the  well-known  light-weight 
who  carried  the  fortunes  of  the  "  largest  circulation 
of  this  earth  "  made  his  way  forward  through  the 
fading  light  of  Wednesday,  gaining  rapidly  on  his 
predecessors,  and,  confident  in  the  excellent  pro- 
vision made  for  him,  was  getting  out  of  his  mount 
the  last  pound  of  pace,  when  a  cut  corner  flung  him 
against  a  barbed  wire  fence,  which  so  terribly 
lacerated  his  leg  that  further  riding  was  out  of  the 
question. 

Binding  up  his  scratches  as  best  he  might,  he 
found  himself  compelled  to  walk  back  thirty-five 
miles  to  Bloemfontein,  unable  to  ride,  and  at  the 
journey's  end  almost  unable  to  stand. 

So  the  Times  and  Renter — each  armed  with  a 
duplicate  despatch  from  the  Commander-in-Chief — 
were  left  to  compete  for  the  contingent  advantage 
of  getting  first  into  Kimberley. 

And  now  was  done  a  notable  achievement. 
Browning,  in  his  poem,  "  How  we  brought  the 
Good  News  from  Ghent  to  Aix,"  has  chosen,  by  an 
odd   accident,   exactly  the   distance   which   divides 

112 


Ours  was  no  Bed  of  Roses 

Kimberley  from  Bloemfontein,  but  we  can  rest  as- 
sured that  the  ''  good  news  "  of  the  capture  of  the 
Boer  capital  sped  on  as  fast  as  ever  went  the  news 
across  the  fiat  plains  of  Flanders. 

Over  the  grey  sage-brush  of  the  veldt,  over  the 
high,  dry  grass,  under  the  rare  shade  of  poplar  trees, 
where  the  horse  was  watered,  along  the  red  crumb- 
ling road  or  the  mere  beaten  wheel  track  where  a 
thousand  waggons  and  twenty  thousand  animals 
had  worn  a  temporary  track,  the  hurrying  hoof  of 
the  courier's  mount  lessened  the  long  distance 
between  the  capital  of  the  O.F.S.  and  the  end  of 
that  wire  of  which  the  other  lies  in  the  capital  of 
the  world. 

In  the  afternoon  of  Wednesday  three  bullets 
whistled  past  the  rider  of  the  Agency,  and  the  news- 
paper's courier  had  a  similar  experience  at  the  same 
spot  as  he  passed  a  little  later. 

It  soon  became  obvious  that  there  was  no  possi- 
bility of  getting  into  Kimberley  in  time  to  send  the 
despatches  before  the  office  closed  for  the  day,  and 
the  Times  despatch  rider  took  the  latter  stages  of  the 
journey  more  easily.  Renter's  man,^  however,  con- 
tinued his  ride  at  his  utmost  speed,  and  actually 
achieved  what  will  long  remain  a  record,  travelling 
the  entire  distance  on  three  horses  in  twenty  hours 
and  twenty  minutes. 

The  need  for  such  lengthy  despatch  riding  luck- 
ily seldom  occurs,  as  the  expense  is  one  of  the 

'  Gilbert  H.  Stevens. 


War's  Brighter  Side 

heaviest  items  that  can  be  incurred  by  newspaper 
representatives  on  behalf  of  their  papers ;  only  in  the 
very  exceptional  circumstances  in  which  the  war 
correspondents  found  themselves  at  the  capture  of 
Bloemfontein  would  the  enormous  expenditure  be 
justified. 


114 


CHAPTER  VII 

RuDYARD  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

A  chapter  which  introduces  a  Prince,  and  tells  of 
our  Appeal  to  the  whole  Army  to  write  for  The 
Friend 

The  next  day's  issue,  that  of  March  22nd, 
was  the  best-looking  number  we  had  produced. 
We  dropped  those  Httle  frames  on  either  side  of 
the  title  of  the  paper  which  journalists  call 
"  ears  "  or  ''  ear-tabs,"  so  that  the  front  page 
looked  dignified  and  ship-shape,  and  the  title 
read  simply  The  Friend,  without  its  former 
addenda  of  ''  Playing  cards  "  and  "  Cue  tips." 
In  place  of  these  we  printed  the  royal  coat-of- 
arms.  This  issue  contained  a  heart-felt  eulogy 
of  Sir  W.  S.  A.  Lockhart  by  the  Field  Marshal. 

General  Kelly  in  Camp  Orders  declared  that 
hereafter  horse  thieves  would  be  severely  dealt 
with,  and  there  appeared  a  notice  by  Prince 
Francis  of  Teck,  *'  Staff  Captain,  Remount  De- 
partment," that  the  army  desired  horses  of  cer- 
115 


War's  Brighter  Side 

tain  ages  and  a  certain  height,  as  well  as  agents 
to  buy  them. 

This  reminds  all  who  were  at  Bloemfontein 
how  the  Prince  came  and  put  up  at  the  Bloem- 
fontein Hotel,  and  began  to  fill  up  an  immense 
yard  just  on  the  edge  of  the  town  with  a  marvel- 
lous collection  of  veldt  horses,  all  of  which,  I 
understood,  he  succeeded  in  buying  at  £25 
a-piece,  though  I  had  just  paid  £100  for  a  pair, 
and  most  men  were  giving  £40  at  the  least  for 
every  horse.  The  Prince  worked  like  a  beaver 
all  the  time  he  was  at  Bloemfontein. 

There  went  to  the  stalwart  and  kindly  Prince 
one  day  an  artist  who  said  he  desired  to  surrender 
two  mules  which  did  not  belong  to  him.  It  was 
not  the  truth  that  he  desired  to  give  them  up, 
nor  was  it  out  of  politeness  that  he  told  the  false- 
hood. The  fact  was  that  the  army  had  taken  his 
horses  and  left  him  a  pair  of  feeble,  poorly  ani- 
mated steeds  of  the  clothes-horse  pattern,  which 
gave  out  on  the  long  road  between  Poplar  Grove 
and  Bloemfontein.  At  the  same  time  two 
healthy  mules,  astray  on  the  veldt,  evinced  a 
yearning  for  human  companionship,  and  insisted 
upon  intruding  themselves  upon  the  company  of 
the  artist  and  his  Basiito  servant  while  they  were 
preparing  lunch.  To  go  on  with  his  own  weak 
and  sick  animals  was  to  invite  a  loss  of  locomo- 
tive power  in  a  country  infested  with  Boers.  To 
116 


Rudyard  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

make  use  of  the  fresher  mules  was  the  natural 
and  obvious  alternative.  Therefore  the  artist 
abandoned  his  horses  and  went  on  with  the 
mules.  Arrived  in  Bloemfontein,  he  at  once 
continued  his  travels  by  joining  the  ''  bill-stick- 
ing expedition  "  of  General  French  over  to  Thab 
N'chu  and  the  region  beyond. 

"  Bill-sticking,"  by  the  way,  was  our  name 
for  the  distribution  of  copies  of  Lord  Roberts's 
proclamation  calling  on  the  Boers  to  lay  down 
their  arms  and  sign  a  promise  not  to  continue 
the  war.  When  the  artist  returned  to  Bloem- 
fontein he  was  met  by  friends  who  said  that  he 
would  certainly  be  shot  if  he  was  found  to  be 
using  animals  that  did  not  belong  to  him.  Lord 
Roberts  had  grown  angry,  it  was  said,  and  had 
exclaimed  aloud  that  no  matter  who  or  what  the 
man  might  be,  the  next  offender  in  this  respect 
should  be  shot.  It  was  this  stentorian  cry,  and 
not  the  still,  small  voice  of  conscience,  that  sent 
the  artist  to  the  Prince,  to  whom  he  told  the 
truth  and  made  formal  surrender  of  the  mules. 

"  And  very  nice  indeed  it  is  of  you,"  said  the 
Prince,  "  very  honest  and  straightforward.  I  will 
send  some  one  to  get  the  mules  this  afternoon." 

"  But,  I  beg  pardon,"  said  the  artist,  "  now 
everything's  all  right,  isn't  it?    The  mules  were 
not  mine,   and   I   have  surrendered   them,   and 
there's  no  trouble  to  follow?  " 
117 


War's  Brighter  Side 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Prince  Francis,  "  I  am 
much  obliged  to  you.  Animals  are  very  scarce 
and  we  need  all  we  can  get ;  so  very  good  of  you 
to  do  as  you  have  done." 

**  Well,  now,"  said  the  artist,  "  won't  you 
please  let  me  keep  the  mules?  The  Army  stole 
my  horses  and  left  me  a  broken-down  pair.  I 
had  to  turn  them  loose  and  take  these  mules 
or  I  should  have  been  killed  or  captured  by 
the  Boers.  I  have  nothing  else  to  move  on 
with.  I  wish  you  would  let  me  keep  the 
mules." 

"  Really,"  said  the  Prince,  "  I  cannot  do  that. 
I  never  heard  such  a  proposition  in  my  life.  I 
have  no  authority  to  do  as  you  ask.  Upon  my 
word,  this  is  most  extraordinary.  Come,  I'll 
tell  you  what  I  will  do.  I'll  see  that  you  get  a 
pair  of  animals  at  the  Army  price.  I  can't  sell 
them  to  you  or  buy  them  for  you,  but  I  can  have 
a  pair  put  aside  for  you  to  buy  of  somebody 
who  brings  them  in  to  sell." 

No  one  who  was  not  there  can  form  any  idea 
of  the  extent  to  which  this  looting  or  com- 
mandeering of  horses  was  then  being  practised. 
They  were  stolen  not  only  from  in  front  of  the 
Club — the  busiest  spot  in  the  heart  of  the  town 
— but  from  before  the  headquarters  of  Lord 
Roberts,  and  from  in  front  of  the  hotels.  Men 
were  desperate;  so  many  were  without  horses. 
Ii8 


Rudyard  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

Sicknesses,  slaughter,  and  overwork  had  left  us 
with  less  than  half  the  animals  we  needed. 

At  about  this  time  a  foreign  correspondent 
who  was  never  guilty  of  taking  even  an  aban- 
doned Boer  horse,  but  who  had  purchased  a  fine 
animal  of  a  negro  on  the  veldt  for  five  shiUings, 
became  very  nervous  over  his  purchase.  He 
went  to  the  stable  and  with  the  help  of  his  serv- 
ant clipped  the  animal  close,  so  that  it  no  longer 
resembled  the  long-haired  beast  he  had  bought. 
Then  he  went  out  into  the  street  and  met  a  Boer 
who  accused  him  of  having  taken  his  horse  and 
who  exactly  described  the  animal  in  question. 
The  Boer  said  he  would  report  the  case  to  Major 
Poore,  the  Provost-Marshal.  The  now  fright- 
ened correspondent  came  to  my  room  with  his 
burden  of  sorrows,  and  stated  his  case  to  the 
company  of  officers,  correspondents,  and  de- 
spatch-riders then  present. 

"  The  Boer's  name  is  Voorboom,"  he  said, 
"  and  he  is  in  earnest.  I  suppose  I  shall  be  sent 
home  in  disgrace." 

At  the  mention  of  the  name  three  men  spoke 
up  saying  that  of  all  the  rascals  in  need  of  a  hang- 
ing this  Voorboom  was  the  sorriest.  One  had 
seen  Boer  combatants  in  Voorboom's  house,  an- 
other had  seen  Voorboom's  brother  trundling 
into  a  clump  of  bushes  an  English  carriage  which 
he  had  stolen,  a  third  had  met  Voorboom  and 
119 


War's  Brighter  Side 

his  negroes  riding  far  and  wide  gathering  up 
loose  horses — English  or  Boer — which  he  was 
undoubtedly  now  bringing  to  town  to  sell  to 
the  Army. 

''  Give  him  an  hour  in  which  to  leave  town 
or  go  to  jail  at  Simon's  Bay,"  said  a  Colonel,  end- 
ing the  incident. 

Mr.  Kipling  was  in  town  at  last  and  had 
promised  us  his  assistance,  but  we  could  not  then 
know  whether  this  would  be  great  or  Httle;  we 
could  not  have  hoped  or  dreamed  that  it  would 
prove  a  quarter  or  a  third  part  of  all  our  work, 
as  it  did.  On  the  other  hand,  we  were  only  too 
painfully  aware  that  very  little  aid  was  being 
vouchsafed  us.  We  found  ourselves,  with  a  great 
newspaper  on  our  hands,  a  newspaper  with  a  gap- 
ing void  of  terrible  dimensions.  ''  Renter  "  had 
promised  its  despatches  to  us,  but  these  were  not 
allowed  on  the  crowded  telegraph  wires  for  days 
at  a  time,  as  it  proved,  and  the  whole  burden  was 
upon  us  joined  to  the  necessity  we  felt  to  do  our 
full  duty  to  our  newspapers  at  home — one  at 
least  of  which  demanded  a  despatch  every  day 
and  four  letters  a  week  if  possible.  The  army 
had  been  counted  upon  for  valuable  and  volumi- 
nous help,  and  it  was  practically  sending  us  in 
nothing.  It  was  agreed  that  I  should  stir  up  the 
consciences  and  pens  of  all  our  friends  and  read- 
ers in  an  ink-blast,  fierce  and  loud.  I  did  this  in 
1 20 


Rudyard  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

the  editorial  of  the  day  entitled,  ''  The  Silent 
Army": — 

Other  armies  (I  wrote)  have  always  been  dis- 
tinguished by  brilliant  raconteurs.  Other  armies 
have  always  contained  a  plenitude  of  wits  and 
humourists.  Other  armies  have  been  noted  for  the 
abundance  of  funny  anecdotes  with  which  chum 
assailed  chum  and  battalion  guyed  battalion.  Other 
armies  have  taken  note  of  the  more  striking  deeds 
of  prowess,  of  valour  and  of  strategy  which  have 
been  done  among  their  members,  and  other  armies 
have  boasted  poets  grave,  poets  gay,  poets  rollick- 
ing, and  poets  who  dedicated  their  verses  to  their 
mistress's  eyebrows. 

Alas !  none  of  these  things  has  this  poor  army — 
so  poor  in  wit  and  literary  talent,  however  rich  it  be 
in  courage,  patience,  dogged  persistence  and  proud 
victories. 

This  army  is  like  a  sponge  for  taking  what  enter- 
tainment the  sweating  editors  of  The  Friend  will 
give  it.  It  is  like  a  barnacle  for  fastening  itself  upon 
us  and  fattening  its  dead  weight  upon  this  little  lit- 
erary bark.  It  is  like  a  horse  behind  our  waggon, 
which  was  built,  like  most  vehicles,  to  have  its 
horses  in  front.  It  is  like  the  veldt  around  us  in  its 
capacity  to  swallow  any  amount  of  refreshing  rain 
and  yet  appear  as  dry  in  four  hours  afterwards  as  if  it 
were  the  pavement  of  that  place  which  can  only  be 
referred  to  by  the  use  of  one  particular  anecdote, 
which  is  as  follows  : — 

"  If  I  owned  Satandom  and  South  Africa,"  said 

121 


War's  Brighter  Side 

a  Canadian  Tommy  at  Modder  River,  "  I  would 
rent  out  South  Africa  and  live  in  Satandom." 

But  we  nearly  digressed — a  sin  unpardonable  in 
an  article  so  important  as  this,  written  hot  upon 
the  impulse  of  suffering  and  keen  feeling. 

The  committee  of  war  correspondents  with  Lord 
Roberts'  army,  who  undertook  to  conduct,  for  the 
first  time  in  history,  a  full-fledged  complete  daily 
newspaper  published  in  an  enemy's  capital  two  days 
after  the  conquest  thereof,  are  all  busy  men  in  their 
own  line  of  industry.  They  have  constant  daily 
work  to  do,  they  are  trusted  by  their  own  news- 
papers to  devote  their  whole  talents  and  energies  to 
the  interests  of  the  public  at  home.  Nevertheless 
they  have  turned  aside  to  conduct  this  newspaper, 
they  are  doing  so,  and  will  continue  to  do  so  to  the 
day  the  army  pushes  on  and  away. 

But  in  undertaking  this  task  their  idea  was  that 
they  merely  had  to  start  the  paper  and  give  it  a 
momentum,  after  which  the  army  would  turn  to 
and  flood  the  editorial  sanctum  with  tales  of  humour, 
wit,  and  prowess  writ  upon  sheets  numberless  as  the 
leaves  of  Vallambrosa. 

The  reader  will  gather  that  this  has  not  yet  taken 
place.  He  will  infer  that  the  war  correspondents  are, 
like  the  last  rose  of  summer,  left  blooming  to  our- 
selves. True,  two  or  three  generous  and  gifted  souls 
in  the  army  have  come  nobly  into  the  breach  with 
contributions ;  but  the  breach  is  nine  columns  wide 
— nine  columns  that  persist  in  emptying  themselves 
as  fast  as  we  fill  them ;  in  fact,  nine  columns  which 

122 


Rudyard  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

become  fifty-four  columns  between  each  Monday 
and  the  succeeding  Saturday.  It  is  on  this  account 
that  when  the  two  or  three  generous  and  talented 
army  men  flung  themselves  in  the  breach,  the  breach 
was  not  aware  of  the  fact — and  we  have  not  had  the 
heart  to  wake  it  up  and  notify  it  that  it  was  being 
filled,  not  caring  to  tell  a  falsehood  even  to  a  silly 
breach. 

Come,  then,  ye  gentles  and  geniuses,  ye  poets,  ye 
anecdotists,  ye  thrillers  and  movers  with  the  pen — 
join  our  staff,  and  put  your  mighty  little  ink-damped 
levers  to  the  rock  that  we  are  rolling  up  the  gigantic 
kopje  of  your  thirst  for  news  and  entertainment. 
Your  pay  shall  be  the  highest  ever  meted  out  to 
man — the  satisfaction  of  souls  content.  Your  com- 
pany shall  include  a  Kipling.  Your  readers  shall 
be  the  bravest,  noblest,  proudest  soldiers  who  ever 
served  an  earthly  race. 

You  can  ask  no  more.  You  can  ask  nothing 
else. 

But  in  the  meantime  we  want  "  copy." 

We  published  also  a  brief  communication 
respecting  the  Dutch  name  Stellenbosch.  This 
needs  a  word  of  explanation.  It  had  long  been 
noticed  that  whenever  an  of^cer  was  prominently 
connected  with  a  losing  battle,  or  exhibited 
marked  incompetence  in  any  field  of  military 
work,  he  got  a  billet  at  Stellenbosch,  a  bowery 
village  deep  down  in  the  Cape  Colony,  where 
was  established  our  base  camp  of  supplies.    The 

123 


War's  Brighter  Side 

name  therefore  attained  a  deep  significance  and 
common  usage  in  the  army,  and  to  say  that  a 
man  had  been  ''  Stellenbosched  "  was  but  the 
ordinary  poHte  mode  of  mentioning  what  might 
otherwise  have  had  to  be  said  in  many  harsher- 
sounding  words. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts^  Force.) 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    FRIDAY,    MARCH    23,    I900. 

PROCLAMATION 

Whereas  it  is  cons-iderd  necessary  in  the  in- 
terests of  the  Orange  Free  State,  and  until  arrange- 
ments may  be  made,  that  the  provisions  of  the  Cus- 
toms Convention  existing  between  the  said  State 
and  the  Colony  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  the 
Colony  of  Natal,  shall  be  duly  observed,  and  the 
Laws  and  Regulations  appertaining  thereto  shall  be 
enforced  as  soon  as  communication  between  the  said 
Colonies  and  such  portions  of  the  Orange  Free 
State  as  have  been  or  may  hereafter  be  occupied  by 
Her  Majesty's  troops  is  restored,  and  the  customary 
commercial  relations  are  resumed ;  and  whereas  it  is 
expedient  that  the  necessary  officers  for  the  control 
and  management  of  the  Customs  Department  of  the 
Orange  Free  State  shall  be  appointed. 

Now  THEREFORE 

I,    Frederick    Sleigh    Baron    Roberts    of 
KiiANDAHAR.  K.P.,  G.C.B.,  G.C.S.L,  G.C.LE.,  V.C, 
124 


Rudyard  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

Field  Marshal,  Commandlng-in-Chief  of  the  British 
Forces  in  South  Africa,  do  hereby  nominate  and 
appoint  the  following  officers,  to  wit : — 

Collector  of  Customs — ^Johannes  Henricus  Meir- 
ing. 

First  Clerk — Albert  C.  Woodward. 

Second  Clerk — Frederik  Blignaut. 


A  WARNING  TO  NATIVES 

EXEMPLARY    SENTENCES 

It  is  evident  from  the  sentences  inflicted  by  the 
Provost  Marshal  that  the  military  authorities  are 
wisely  determined  to  repress  all  forms  of  lawlessness 
and  unruliness  on  the  part  of  native  boys  with  a 
firm  hand.  Take  the  following  three  cases  by  way 
of  illustration : — 

No.  I.  Boy:  28  lashes  for  resisting  Military 
Police  in  discharge  of  their  duty  while  arresting  him. 

No.  2.  Two  Boys :  25  lashes  each  for  being 
drunk  and  fighting. 

No.  3.  27  Boys :  5  lashes  each  for  being  dis- 
orderly and  having  no  pass  after  9  o'clock. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  above  cases  of  the  day 
the  Provost  Marshal  called  the  native  police  before 
him  and  complimented  them  on  the  good  work  they 
had  done. 

When  the  British  entered  Bloemfontein  there 
was  general  rejoicing  in  the  native  "  location,"  but  it 
is  impossible  to  insist  too  plainly  that  the  clemency 
125 


War's  Brighter  Side 

of  British  rule  will  not  extend  to  violent,  drunken, 
and  disorderly  persons,  whether  they  be  white  or 
black. 


ARMY  ORDERS— SOUTH  AFRICA 

Army  Headquarters,  Government  House, 

Bloemfontein,  March  20,  1900. 
I.  Death  of  Commander-in-Chief  in  India. 

It  is  with  deep  regret  that  the  Field  Marshal, 
Commanding-in- Chief,  announces  to  the  Army  in 
South  Africa  the  death  of  His  Excellency  Sir  W. 
S.  A.  Lockhart,  G.C.B.,  K.C.S.L,  Commander-in- 
Chief  in  India,  which  occurred  at  Calcutta  on  the 
evening  of  the  i8th  of  March,  1900. 

Lord  Roberts  is  sure  that  his  own  feelings  will  be 
shared  by  every  Officer  and  Soldier  who  has  served 
under  Sir  William  Lockhart's  command,  and  more 
particularly  by  those  who  have  been  personally 
acquainted  with  him. 

After  a  long  and  varied  Military  career,  which 
began  in  Abyssinia,  time  of  the  Mutiny,  and  which 
included  war  service  in  Acheen,  Afghanistan,  Burma, 
The  Black  Mountain,  Wazeristan,  Isazai,  and  finally 
the  command  of  the  Terah  Expeditionary  Force, 
Sir  William  Lockhart  was  appointed  to  the  Chief 
Command  in  India.  Ppssessed  of  exceptional  abil- 
ity, he  distinguished  himself  alike  as  a  Staflf  Officer 
and  as  a  commander  in  the  field,  and  by  his  uniform 
kindness  and  consideration  he  endeared  himself  to 
all  who  came  in  contact  with  him.  In  the  late  Com- 
126 


Rudyard  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

mander-in-Chief  the  Soldiers  in  India,  both  British 
and  Native,  have  lost  a  friend  whose  only  thought 
was  to  further  their  interests  and  promote  their  wel- 
fare, and  the  Indian  Empire  has  lost  a  trusted  Coun- 
cillor who,  on  account  of  his  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  Native  races,  and  his  acquaintance  with  Eastern 
affairs,  cannot  soon  or  easily  be  replaced. 

2.  Amendment. 

With  reference  to  Army  Order  No.  5  (b)  of  4th 
March,  for  Captain  R.  H.  Hall  read  Captain  R. 
H.  Hare. 

3.  Telegrams. 

The  Field  Marshal  Commanding-in-Chief  has 
great  pleasure  in  publishing  the  following  telegram 
which  has  been  received : — 

From  Sirdar  Khan,  Bahadur  Casim,  Haji  Ma- 
homed Khansahib,  Kazi  Mahommed  Ali  Murshaj. 
Bombay  Mahomedans  offer  your  Lordship,  your 
gallant  Officers  and  Soldiers  hearty  congratulations 
on  brilliant  success  Transvaal,  and  pray  Almighty 
crown  efforts  greater  success  and  honours. 
By  order, 

W.  Kelly,  M.  General, 
D.  A.  General. 


THE  WEARY  TREK 
Trek,  trek,  trek, 

On  the  wild  South  African  veldt. 
With  anthills  here  and  anthills  there 
And  holes  and  ruts,  you're  inclined  to  swear, 
10  127 


War's  Brighter  Side 

For  your  mokes  will  religiously  take  you  o'er 
These  impediments  by  the  score, 
But  you  trek,  trek,  trek. 

Trek,  trek,  trek. 
With  a  heart  as  heavy  as  lead, 
For  the  comrades  who  have  bit  the  dust 
Whilst  fighting  for  a  cause  that's  just, 
With  bootless  feet  and  clothing  torn, 
From  chilly  night  to  dewy  morn 
You  trek,  trek,  trek. 

Trek,  trek,  trek. 
There's  nothing  to  do  but  trek. 
While  your  mules  half  starved  and  done  to  death, 
And  yourself  ditto  and  out  of  breath. 
You  wish  to  Heaven  the  war  was  o'er 
And  you  say  sweet  ( ?)  things  of  the  cunning  Boer, 
But  you  trek,  trek,  trek. 


GO  TO STELLENBOSCH ! ! 

To  the  Editors  of  "  The  Friend,"  Sirs : — In  the 
course  of  a  lengthy  experience  I  have  heard  many 
quaint  conceits  and  many  hard  swear  words,  and 
have  kept  a  small  notebook  in  which  I  have  jotted 
down  anything  especially  new.  I  was  the  unwill- 
ing auditor  the  other  day  of  a  quarrel  between 
two  individuals  whose  rank  and  profession  shall 
be  nameless.  The  conversation  became  very  ani- 
mated, and  finally  one  exclaimed  with  savage 
128 


Rudyard  Kipling,  Associate  Editor 

irony,  "  Oh,  go  to  Stellenbosch !  "  Fortunately 
some  passers-by  interrupted  the  fracas  or  else  I 
verily  believe  blows  would  have  been  exchanged. 
Now  you,  sirs,  with  your  opportunities  of  know- 
ing many  lands  and  varied  languages,  may  perhaps 
be  able  to  inform  me  where  this  place  is  and  why 
the  request  to  go  there  should  have  caused  such 
fury  and  such  agitation  on  the  part  of  the  individual 
addressed.  It  will  be  a  relief  to  the  consciences 
of    Her    Majesty's    lieges    if    the    time-honoured 

"  D "  can  be  relegated  to  the  limbo  of  forgotten 

oaths  in  favour  of  such  an  apparently  innocent  ex- 
pression. I  write  in  all  innocence,  as  no  man  likes 
to  use  a  phrase,  especially  such  a  potent  one,  with- 
out understanding  its  meaning. — Faithfully  yours, 

Chiriogicus. 

[We  believe  that  the  place  mentioned  was  located 
somewhere  in  the  Arctic  Regions  by  the  Jackson 
expedition. — Eds.] 


129 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

Like  a  beehive  for  industry  when  Rudyard  Kipling 
went  to  lunch  with  the  Field-Marshal 

Rudyard  Kipling  was  paying  visits  and 
getting  acquainted  with  the  local  situation.  He 
had  left  his  wife  and  family  at  the  far-famed 
Mount  Nelson  Hotel — the  "  Helot's  Rest,"  as  a 
statesman  had  called  it — with  its  strange  assem- 
bly of  Rand  and  Kimberley  millionaires,  and 
other  refugees  from  the  two  republics,  its  army 
of^cers,  both  of  the  invalid  and  the  idle  class, 
its  censors,  war  correspondents,  sightseers,  and 
ladies  longing  to  get  to  the  more  exciting  front. 

I  first  saw  Mr.  Kipling  there,  and  now  found 
him  tenanting  a  bedroom  across  the  passage  from 
my  own  in  the  Free  State  Hotel  at  Bloemfontein. 
When  I  went  to  shake  his  hand  he  was  in  the 
room  of  W.  B.  Wollen,  the  artist,  and  one  of 
those  men  who  having  nothing  good  to  say,  are 
never  content  to  stop  there,  was  exclaiming,  "  Is 
it  possible  that  I  have  the  honour  to  meet  the 
author  of '  The  Absent-Minded  Beggar '?  " 
130 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

"Yes,"  said  Kipling,  "I  have  heard  that 
piece  played  on  a  barrel-organ,  and  I  would  shoot 
the  man  who  wrote  it  if  it  would  not  be  suicide." 

A  man  of  such  broad  build  and  short  neck 
that  you  do  not  realise  him  to  be  above  the 
average  stature,  wearing  a  broad-brimmed,  flat 
brown  hat  of  Boer  pattern,  and  below  that  a 
brown  short  coat  and  very  full  trousers  to  match; 
a  vigorous  figure,  quick  in  movement  as  a  pan- 
ther, quicker  still  in  speech;  a  swinging  and  roll- 
ing figure  with  head  up  and  hat  well  back  out  of 
the  way  of  his  sight  which  is  ever  thrown  upward 
as  if  he  searched  the  sky  while  he  walked.  His 
face  is  quite  a  match  for  his  body,  being  round 
and  wide  as  well  as  wide-eyed  and  open.  His 
eyes  are  its  most  notable  features,  for  they  are 
very  large  and  open,  and  each  one  is  arched  by 
the  bushiest  of  black  eyebrows.  They  are  ha- 
bitually reflective  and  sober  eyes,  but,  like  a  flash, 
they  kindle  with  fun,  and  can  equally  quickly 
turn  dull  and  stony  when  good  occasion  arises. 
It  is  not  the  typical  poet's  or  scholar's  face  so 
much  as  it  is  the  face  of  the  man  among  men,  the 
out-of-door  man,  the  earnest,  shrewd  observer 
and  the  impressible  hard  worker. 

It  happened  that  both  of  us  were  to  pay  our 

respects  to  the  Field-Marshal  at  the  Residency 

in  the  same  day,  and  both  were  invited  to  lunch. 

Of  course,  Mr.  Kipling  knew  Lord  Roberts  very 

131 


War's  Brighter  Side 

well — had  seen  much  of  him  in  India,  where  they 
had  been  both  friends  and  mutual  admirers.  We 
went  to  the  Residency  together.  There  we  met 
a  very  kindly  and  hospitable  young  gentleman 
who  asked  us  who  we  were  and  offered  us  a  visit- 
ors' book  in  which  to  record  our  signatures.  To 
him  we  were  presently  introduced  and  found  him 
to  be  none  other  than  the  Duke  of  Westminister, 
who,  as  Lord  Belgrave,  had  at  an  earlier  stage 
been  with  Sir  Alfred  Milner  at  the  Cape.  His 
Grace  proffered  us  refreshment  of  the  coveted 
sort,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  quoted  at  lis. 
a  bottle  ''  on  a  rising  market,"  and  then  he  con- 
ducted us  to  the  great  drawing-room  with  its 
strong  suggestion  of  the  grandeur  of  a  ruler's 
residence,  despite  its  garish  wall-paper  and  its 
puckered-up  carpet. 

The  whole  Residency  was  like  a  beehive  for 
industry.  In  the  dining-room  privates  were  ham- 
mering away  upon  typewriters,  and  ofificers  were 
supplying  them  with  copy.  We  peeped  into  the 
large  ball-room,  and  lo!  it  was  appointed  with 
many  desks  at  which  members  of  the  illustrious 
and  aristocratic  staff  of  the  Field-Marshal  were 
hard  at  work  with  pens  and  ink.  Even  in  the 
drawing-room,  the  merely  ornamental  desks  and 
tables  were  strewn  with  documents  at  which  far 
from  merely  ornamental  lords  were  writing. 

When  lunch  was  announced  we  found  the 
132 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

dining-hall  set  with  two  tables — a  very  long  one 
for  the  staff,  and  a  very  small  one  at  its  head  for 
Lord  Roberts.  Mr.  Kipling  sat  with  the  Field- 
Marshal,  while  I  was  placed  between  Lord  Stan- 
ley and  Lord  Herbert  Scott  at  the  big  table.  I 
was  not  impressed  by  any  unlooked-for  excel- 
lence in  the  simple  meal  with  which  we  were 
served.  I  had  lived  better  on  the  open  veldt 
whenever  I  had  been  able  to  get  at  my  Cape 
cart,  and  the  boxes  I  had  stored  in  it.  But  the 
flow  of  wit  and  the  hospitality  and  courtesy  that 
were  shown  to  me  would  have  rendered  worse 
fare  beyond  reproach. 

After  the  meal  Lord  Stanley  introduced  me 
to  the  Field-Marshal,  and  my  very  first  words 
caused  those  who  do  not  know  how  great  and 
broad  a  man  he  is,  to  think  that  I  had  offended 
Lord  Roberts. 

"  I  am  very  proud  to  know  you,  General," 
I  said. 

We  talked  for  a  few  moments  of  trifling 
things,  merely  by  way  of  making  acquaintance. 

"  You  called  him  'General ' ;  you  should  have 
said  *  Sir,'  or  '  Lord  Roberts,'  "  said  those  who 
were  concerned  about  the  episode. 

"  The  highest  rank  and  title  in  the  American 

Army  is  'General,'"  said  I;  "and  in  that  way 

Washington,   Grant,   and  all  our  leaders   were 

saluted.     Lord  Roberts  spoke  of  my  being  an 

133 


War's  Brighter  Side 

American.  I  am  sure  he  understands  how  I  came 
to  make  a  mistake,  while,  at  the  same  time,  pay- 
ing him  the  highest  respect." 

Our  newspaper  showed  that  we  were  getting 
on  rapidly  with  the  new  forces  of  administration 
— the  outcome,  first,  of  Lord  Roberts's  brain, 
and,  next,  of  the  extraordinary  industry  at  the 
Residency.  That  most  skilful  of  military  rail- 
way engineers,  Colonel  E.  P.  C.  Girouard,  who, 
while  head  of  the  Egyptian  Railways  was  also 
restoring  our  wrecked  lines  and  manning  them 
efficiently,  announced  in  our  6th  number  (March 
23rd),  that  the  daily  train  to  the  south  would 
leave  at  7  a.m.,  and  the  train  from  the  south 
would  arrive  at  twenty-six  minutes  after  mid- 
night each  day. 

The  Gordon  Club  opposite  the  Cathedral  was 
to  be  reopened  next  day.  The  Wesleyan  Church 
announced  a  parade  service  for  the  coming  Sun- 
day. The  Presbyterian  Church  announced  its 
meetings  for  the  week.  Services  at  the  English 
Cathedral  were  also  advertised.  The  Army 
Sports  began  on  this  date.  Major  Lorimer,  of 
the  Cape  Police,  came  with  a  trooper  and  some 
despatch  riders  and  was  taken  on  the  strength. 
C.  V.  F.  Townshend,  A.A.G.  to  the  Military 
Governor,  grappled  with  the  negro  problem  in 
a  warning  notice  that  all  natives  must  be  indoors 
by  eight  o'clock  p.m.  unless  possessed  of  a  special 
134 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

permit,  and  that  dancing  and  drunkenness  in  the 
streets  would  meet  with  severe  punishment. 

We  published  a  very  informing  and  authori- 
tative editorial  upon  martial  law,  which  one  of 
the  editors  was  at  some  pains  to  secure.  I  have 
a  strong  idea  that  it  was  written  either  by  Gen- 
eral Pretyman  or  Major  Poore,  but  I  have  no 
means  for  making  certain. 

James  Barnes,  the  distinguished  American 
correspondent,  who  very  kindly  and  with  able 
results,  took  my  place  as  correspondent  of  the 
Daily  Mail  when  I  was  invalided  home,  wrote  for 
this  number  a  comparison  between  this  and  some 
recent  American  wars. 

We  led  the  paper  with  the  full  text  of  Mr. 
Kipling's  poem,  only  one  verse  of  which  had 
reached  us  a  week  before. 

THE    FRIEND. 

BLOEMFONTEIN,   MARCH   23,    I900. 

POEM  BY  RUDYARD  KIPLING 

(Owing  to  the  exigencies  of  war,  we  were  unable 
at  the  time  to  print  more  than  one  stanza  of  Mr.  Kip- 
ling's poem,  which  we  now  present  in  its  entirety.) 

Oh,  Terence,  dear,  and  did  ye  hear 
The  news  that's  going  round? 

The  Shamrock's  Erin's  badge  by  law 
Where'er  her  sons  are  found ! 
135 


War's  Brighter  Side 

From  Bobsfontein  to  Ballyhack 
Tis  ordered  by  the  Queen — 

We've  won  our  right  in  open  fight, 
The  Wearin'  of  the  Green ! 


We  sailed  upon  commando 

To  vierneuk  our  Brother  Boer — 
A  landlord  and  a  Protestant, 

What  could  the  bhoys  want  more? 
But  Redmond  cursed  and  Dillon  wept, 

And  swore  'twas  shame  and  sin ; 
So  we  went  out  and  commandeered 

The  Green  they  dared  not  win. 

'Twas  past  the  wit  of  man,  they  said, 

Our  North  and  South  to  join — 
Not  all  Tugela's  blood  could  flood 

The  black  and  bitter  Boyne; 
But  Bobs  arranged  a  miracle 

(He  does  it  now  and  then), 
For  he'll  be  Duke  of  Orange,  sure, 

So  we'll  be  Orange  men ! 

Take  hold !    The  Green's  above  the  red. 

But  deep  in  blood  'tis  dyed, 
We  plucked  it  under  Mauser-fire 

Along  the  trenched  hill-side : 
Talana's  rush,  the  siege,  the  drift, 

The  Fight  of  Fourteen  Days, 
Bring  back  what's  more  than  England's  rose 

And  dearer  than  her  praise ! 
•36 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

God  heal  our  women's  breaking  hearts 

In  Ireland  far  away ! 
An'  Mary  tell  the  news  to  those 

That  fell  before  this  day — 
Dear  careless  bhoys  that  laughed  and  died 

By  kopje  and  fontein — 
Our  dead  that  won  the  living  prize — 

The  Wearin'  of  the  Green ! 

RuDYARD  Kipling. 
[Copyright  in  England  and  the  U.  S.  A.] 


MILITARY  LAW 
(Editorial) 

In  times  like  the  present  when  military  matters 
are  discussed  by  all  classes  of  society,  both  by  sol- 
diers and  civilians,  the  question  of  the  law,  by  which 
discipHne  and  law,  not  only  among  the  troops,  but 
also  the  civil  population  in  the  country  they  occupy 
are  maintained,  frequently  arises,  and  the  terms 
"  Martial  Law "  and  "  Military  Law "  are  often 
made  use  of  as  if  they  meant  the  same  thing.  It 
is  to  explain  this  that  the  following  is  written. 

"  Military  Law  "  is  the  Law  which  governs  the 
soldier  in  peace  and  in  war,  at  home  and  abroad. 
It  is  administered  under  the  Army  Act  which  is  part 
of  the  Statute  Law  of  England,  and  which,  by  special 
provision,  must  be  brought  into,  and  continue  in 
force,  by  an  annual  Act  of  Parliament. 

With  an  army  in  the  field,  certain  persons,  not 

137 


War's  Brighter  Side 

soldiers,  are  also  subject  to  the  provisions  of  "  Mili- 
tary Law,"  such  as  civilians  serving  with  the  force 
in  an  official  capacity;  persons  accompanying  the 
troops  with  special  leave,  such  as  newspaper  cor- 
respondents and  contractors ;  persons  employed 
with  the  troops,  such  as  transport  drivers ;  other 
persons  known  as  followers  who  accompany  the 
troops  either  as  sutlers  or  on  business  or  pleasure 
with  the  permission  of  the  commander, 

"  Martial  Law,"  on  the  other  hand,  is  only  opera- 
tive in  war.  It  is  in  fact  no  law  at  all,  and  has  been 
accurately  defined  as  the  "  will  of  the  conqueror." 
The  expression  "  Customs  of  War  "  would  perhaps 
better  define  what  is  meant  by  "  Martial  Law,"  be- 
cause the  word  Law  conveys  the  idea  to  most  people 
of  an  enactment  containing  a  fixed  and  rigid  rule 
which  must  be  obeyed,  and  which,  if  disobeyed,  will 
involve  punishment. 

This  "  Law  "  or  "  Custom  "  is  applicable  to  all 
persons  and  inhabitants  not  subject  to  ''Military 
Law  "  residing  within  the  foreign  country  or  that 
portion  of  it  occupied  by  the  troops,  and  also  within 
districts  under  British  rule  abroad,  which,  in  con- 
sequence of  riot  or  rebellion,  are  so  declared  to  be 
subject  to  "  Martial  Law  "  by  proclamation. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  a  commander  of  troops 
in  time  of  war  acts  in  two  distinct  capacities.  First, 
he  governs  the  troops  by  "  Military  Law  "  only ; 
secondly,  in  his  position  of  governor  of  the  country 
he  occupies,  he  imposes  such  laws  or  rules  on  the 
inhabitants  as  in  his  opinion  are  necessary  to  secure 

138 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

the  safety  of  his  army,  and  also  the  good  govern- 
ment of  the  district  which,  by  reason  of  the  war  or 
rebeUion,  may  for  the  time  have  been  deprived  of 
its  ordinary  rulers  and  the  machinery  for  maintain- 
ing order. 

For  the  purpose  of  administering  "  Martial 
Law  "  or  the  *'  Customs  of  War  "  no  rules  or  regu- 
lations are  absolutely  laid  down,  but  certain  customs 
exist  among  civilised  nations  which  are  generally 
recognised. 

At  the  present  time  the  practice  in  force  is  that, 
when  practicable,  "  Martial  Law  "  should  only  sup- 
plement the  civil  procedure,  but  when  the  civil 
Government  is  absent  or,  in  consequence  of  war, 
is  paralysed,  "  Martial  Law  "  must  of  necessity  re- 
place the  civil. 

In  administering  ''  Martial  Law  "  by  a  Military 
Court  the  ordinary  procedure  recognised  by  Mili- 
tary Law  "  is  followed.  This  is  done  because  the 
Military  Court  would  be  composed  of  military  offi- 
cers whose  training  would  make  them  conversant 
with  such  procedure,  and  because  some  uniformity 
in  administering  justice  would  thus  be  ensured. 


FACTS  AND  OTHERWISE 

We  wish  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  troops  of 
all  ranks  to  the  benefits  which  the  use  of  the  Public 
Free  Library  offers. 

A  Branch  of  the  Standard  Bank  is  being  opened 

139 


War's  Brighter  Side 

in  Colonnade  Buildings  under  the  direction  of  Mr. 
M.  D.  Savory,  late  Manager  of  the  Oudtshoorn 
Branch. 

The  Powerfurs  contingent  of  the  Naval  Brigade, 
consisting  of  twenty-nine  men  and  four  officers,  left 
by  yesterday's  train  for  Capetown.  Mr.  Midship- 
man Lewin,  who  is  in  command,  has  the  honour  of 
carrying  despatches. 

The  great  want  of  Bloemfontein  just  now  is  some 
place  of  light  recreation  and  refreshment  to  which 
weary  soldiers  and  civilians  can  repair  after  the 
labour  of  the  day  is  ended.  It  is  premature,  of 
course,  to  expect  anything  so  pretentious  as  the 
Alhambra  or  Tivoli  of  London  fame,  but  the  re- 
sources of  the  capital  of  the  Orange  Free  State 
should  be  at  least  equal  to  the  provision  and  equip- 
ment of  a  hall  where  songs  and  various  forms  of 
light  entertainment  might  be  presented  nightly.  Al- 
ready there  is  talk  of  an  enterprising  agent  pro- 
ceeding to  Capetown  with  the  object  of  retaining 
the  necessary  artistes,  who  may  be  expected  here  as 
soon  as  the  railway  communication  is  open  to  the. 
general  public;  but  for  present  purposes  there  is 
sufficient  talent  amongst  our  soldiers  and  sailors 
and  the  townspeople  to  tide  over  the  emergency. 
A  committee  of  amusement  with  a  good  man  as 
chairman  is  required,  and  the  rest,  with  the  per- 
mission of  the  military  authorities,  should  be  toler- 
able easy.  The  drums  and  pipes  of  the  Highland 
regiments  continue  to  do  valiant  service  in  the 
market  square,  but  the  time  is  surely  come  when 

140 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

entertainment   on   a   more   ambitious   programme 
might  be  contemplated. 


THE  PROMOTION  OF  BINKS 

"  Know  Binks  ?  Of  course.  Everybody  does — 
local  major,  staff  something  at  Headquarters  of 
loth  Division — devilish  useful  chap  to  know." 

Yes,  Major  Binks;  but  three  short  months  ago 
I  was  only  young  Binks  of  the  Buffers,  arriving  at 
Blankfontein  to  take  charge  of  a  Transport  Com- 
pany ;  I  had  no  experience,  and  no  instructions,  ex- 
cept to  "  lick  'em  into  shape,"  and  I  felt  like  the  title 
of  a  book,  "  Alone  in  South  Africa."  Not  quite 
alone  after  all,  for  I  had  Wopples  with  me ;  Wopples 
being  the  servant  my  old  uncle,  Major  Stodger,  had 
found  for  me.  *'  He'll  kill  your  horses,  of  course, 
and  lose  your  kit,  but  he  was  our  mess  corporal  in 
the  Blazers  for  fourteen  years,  and  he'll  pull  you 
through." 

After  asking  many  questions  and  getting  no  an- 
swers, I  found  a  seething  mass  of  mules,  waggons, 
and  blacks,  which  turned  out  to  be  my  company, 
and  in  the  midst  of  it  was  a  person  of  evidently 
some  importance,  who  turned  out  to  be  the  con- 
ductor. His  natural  perimeter  was  nearly  doubled 
by  the  packets  of  papers  which  bulged  from  every 
pocket,  and  he  was  addressing  the  crowd  in  a  variety 
of  bad  languages  when  I  introduced  myself,  not 
without  trepidation,  as  his  new  C."C."0.    His  smile 

141 


War's  Brighter  Side 

was  reassuring  and  patronising.  "  Oh,  that'll  be  all 
right,  sir;  we're  getting  along  nicely — but  the 
Major's  coming  round  to-morrow — commands  the 
station,  he  does — and  wastes  a  lot  of  time.  Now,  if 
you  could  offer  him  a  bit  of  breakfast " 

Next  morning  the  Major  rode  up;  he  was  a 
melancholy-looking  man  with  an  absent  manner. 
Before  I  could  introduce  the  subject  he  said  he 
would  not  interrupt  me  if  I  were  having  breakfast ; 
I  begged  him  to  join  me,  but  he  said  he  never  could 
eat  at  that  hour,  but  he  might  as  well  come  in — per- 
haps he  might  manage  a  cup  of  tea.  He  managed 
one  cup,  and  then  another,  after  which  he  brightened 
up  a  lot  and  managed  porridge,  fried  liver,  curried 
mutton,  and  half  a  tin  of  jam.  After  one  of  my 
cigars  (also  selected  by  uncle)  he  rode  away,  re- 
marking that  he  was  glad  to  find  they'd  sent  up 
somebody  at  last  who  had  a  grasp  of  things — he 
felt  he  could  rely  on  me. 

Next  day  I  was  appointed  his  assistant.  When 
I  reported  myself  he  said  he  wanted  somebody 
whom  he  could  leave  in  the  office  in  case  he  had 
to  go  out — there  was  no  other  definite  job  for  me 
just  then ;  meanwhile  I  might  as  well  look  after  the 
mess.    I  did  so,  or  rather  Wopples  did  so. 

One  evening  the  Major  seemed  somewhat  upset, 
"  Look  here,  Binks,  the  Brigadier  is  coming  round 
to-morrow  to  discuss  a  defence  scheme;  he's  in- 
clined to  fuss  a  lot;  I've  got  to  go  out  myself  on 
duty,  but  you'd  better  stay  in  and  have  a  lot  of 
breakfast  ready;  I  think  you  might  almost  run  to 

142 


Lord   Roberts's  Headquarters 

a  tin  of  sausages."  Next  morning  the  Brigadier 
rode  up  all  alone  at  full  gallop,  scrambled  off  his 
horse,  and  began  to  shout,  ''  Come  along,  come 
along;  mustn't  waste  time  on  active  service;  got 
fifty  things  to  settle  to-day !  Here's  my  brigade  on 
this  side  of  the  river — now  tell  me  at  once  where 
every  man  on  the  other  side  is  posted  " — here  he  fell 
over  Wopples.  ''  Who  the  deuce ! — what,  breakfast, 
eh?  Well,  well,  must  eat,  even  on  service.  I  can 
spare  five  minutes.  Come  along."  He  rushed  into 
my  tent  and  spared  five  minutes.  The  five  minutes 
prolonged  themselves  to  ten  minutes,  then  to  an 
hour  and  a  quarter,  after  which  the  Brigadier 
slept  so  sweetly  that  I  had  no  heart  to  waken  him. 
About  3  o'clock  he  woke  with  a  sort  of  explosion, 
shouted  for  his  horse,  and  galloped  off  talking 
as  hard  as  ever. 

Next  morning  I  was  appointed  his  extra  A.D.C. 
with  rank  of  Captain.  ''  There'll  be  a  lot  of  work 
for  you  later  on,"  the  Brigade-Major  said,  "  but  no 
bustle  just  now;  meanwhile  you  might  look  after 
the  mess."  Again  we  did  so.  I  was  left  in  camp 
one  day  when  the  Brigade  had  gone  out  to  do  some- 
thing— "  Somebody  must  be  left  in  charge,  and,  by 
the  by,  have  a  bit  of  something  ready  in  case  we 
come  back  hungry."  I  was  reading  the  advertise- 
ment sheets  of  a  paper  six  weeks  old  when  Wopples 
rushed  in.  "  Lord  Upington,  sir,  staff  boss  at 
Divisional  Headquarters,  just  a'comin'  up  the  road ! 
Wot  a  chance  it  is !  Why,  if  he  don't  know  what 
good  living  means — well,  Fm  a  Boer !  '* 

"  143 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Wopples  was  too  mucb  of  an  artist  to  overdo 
things — there  was  just  a  taste  of  porridge — not 
enough  to  spoil  one's  appetite,  a  partridge  with  full 
complements  of  bread-sauce  and  red  pepper,  mar- 
row-bones with  hot  toast  and  a  nip  of  whisky,  black 
cofifee  and  cigars;  where  it  had  all  sprung  from 
goodness  only  knows. 

When  his  lordship  departed  he  said  he  would  not 
forget  me;  his  heart  and  other  organs  were  so  full 
that  he  quite  forgot  to  mention  the  pressing  business 
on  which  he  had  come. 

Next  morning  I  was  appointed  signalling  officer 
to  the  Division.  I  had  never  done  a  signalling  class, 
and  pointed  this  out  to  the  D.A.G.,  but  he  said  it 
didn't  matter,  what  they  wanted  was  a  really  useful 
man  to  supervise  generally  the  signalling  business. 
Of  course,  just  at  present  there  was  no  signalling 
as  we  were  on  a  wire ;  meanwhile  I  might  take  over 
the  mess.  Before  the  words  were  out  of  his  mouth 
Wopples  had  taken  the  mess  over;  he  had  sacked 
two  black  cooks,  discarded  the  mess  pots  in  favour 
of  his  own,  taken  the  measures  of  the  mess  stores, 
and  was  getting  on  with  lunch.  By  that  even- 
ing my  position  as  an  ornament  to  the  staff  was 
secure. 

It  was  at  something  drift  that  we  gave  our  first 
official  dinner;  we  had  secured  a  roomy  farmhouse 
with  some  bits  of  furniture,  so,  relying  on  Wop- 
ples, we  launched  into  hospitality.  And  Wopples 
had  surpassed  himself.  There  was  a  haunch  of 
venison   which   brought   tears   of  joy  to   the   five 

144 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

eyes  of  the  three  generals  who  partook  of  it — 
no  mere  common  haunch,  there  were  several  such 
in  camp  that  night — this  was  a  haunch  that  had 
been  through  the  hands  of  Wopples.  Then  there 
was  his  extra  special  entree — but  that  is  another 
course. 

It  was  a  dinner  that  might  be  eaten,  but  could 
never  be  described. 

Next  day  I  was  gently  approached  by  many  red 
tabs.  The  Provost-Marshal  said  I  was  just  the  sort 
of  chap  for  his  department  if  I'd  care  to  come;  a 
R.E.  enthusiast  told  me  that  a  balloon  was  the  only 
place  for  a  real  good  view  of  a  show  and  "  he'd 
work  the  matter  for  me  " ;  somebody  on  the  intel- 
ligence said  there  was  a  real  well-paid  billet  he'd 
been  keeping  open  on  purpose  for  me ;  and  two  of 
the  generals  declared  piteously  that  they  could  not 
get  on  without  my  services.  The  third  general  had 
not  recovered  the  dinner,  but  sent  a  grinning  A.D.C. 
to  represent  him. 

After  that  his  lordship  shut  me  and  Wopples  up 

together  in  his  own  room  and  kept  guard  outside 

himself.    "  We'll  take  care  of  you,  Binks ;  we'll  get 

you  made  a  local  major,  and  you  shall  ride  the 

general's  horse  as  you've  lost  all  your  own.     I'll 

find  you  a  Tommy's  blanket,  by  Jove  I  will!  and 

demme,  I'll  give  you  my  own  second  shirt ;  but  I'll 

be  shot  if  you  leave  our  camp,  my  boy — shot  and 

starved ! " 

Anonymous. 


145 


War's  Brighter  Side 

SOLDIERS^  BATTLES  AND   GENERALS* 
CAMPAIGNS 

BY   JAMES    BARNES 

The  writer,  an  American,  who  served  during  the 
Cuban  war,  has  been  asked  to  compare  the  present 
heated  argument  with  the  late  unpleasantness  in  the 
Antilles. 

It  is  rather  difficult  to  draw  any  comparisons 
between  this  war  in  South  Africa  and  the  late  con- 
flict in  Cuba.  It  is  like  comparing  two  games 
differing  in  rules  and  methods,  and  resembling  one 
another  only  in  the  fact  that  they  are  played  with 
bat  and  ball. 

One  of  the  strange  things  about  the  war  in  the 
West  Indies  was  this — when  it  was  over  the  world 
waited  for  the  lesson,  and  there  was  none  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word.  The  God  of  battles  must 
have  been  with  America  from  start  to  finish ;  ours 
was  the  good  fortune;  we  had  all  the  luck.  It  was 
a  series  of  miracles.  Naval  men  waited  to  see  the 
great  things  torpedo-boats  would  accomplish,  and 
two  of  the  much-dreaded  machines  were  sunk  by  a 
millionaire's  pleasure-craft  transformed  into  a  gun- 
boat. Vessels  with  armoured  belts  and  protective 
decks  were  set  on  fire  in  the  old-fashioned  way 
by  exploding  shells  igniting  their  wood-work. 
Dewey's  victory  at  Manila  was  accomplished  with- 
out loss  of  life  on  the  A^merican  side,  and  Sampson's 
victory  at  Santiago  was  almost  as  wonderful — but 
one  man  killed  and  a  few  slightly  wounded. 

146 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

Army  experts  waited  for  the  results  of  the  use  of 
long-range  magazine  rifles,  smokeless  powder,  and 
high  explosives,  yet  trenches  and  hills  defended  by 
men  with  Mausers  were  stormed  and  taken  by  men 
with  Krag-Jorgensens  in  their  hands  in  the  old- 
fashioned  way — a  steady  advance  and  a  rushing 
charge  to  clinch  it.  Caney  and  San  Juan  Hill  were 
old-fashioned  fights  with  the  exception  of  the  fact 
that  men  were  killed  miles  in  the  rear  by  the  straying 
droves  of  bullets  and  never  saw  an  enemy. 

As  in  this  war  the  losses  did  not  compare  to 
those  of  some  hand-to-hand  conflicts  of  the  Rebel- 
lion, and  many  wounds  that  in  the  old  days  would 
have  proved  fatal,  thanks  to  the  merciful  Mauser, 
amounted  to  very  little.  Perhaps  to  offer  explana- 
tion of  some  strange  occurrences  of  the  Cuban  war 
would  be  disparaging  to  the  Spaniards.  Perhaps  the 
least  that  can  be  said  is  that  in  the  main  the  Dons 
were  shocking  poor  shots,  and  they  had  been  so 
weakened  by  disease  and  hunger  that  they  had  not 
much  fight  left  in  them  when  it  came  to  cold  steel 
and  clubbed  muskets.  The  great  losses  in  Cuba 
were  from  fevers,  not  from  bullets.  It  is  in  the  con- 
ditions and  environments  that  the  chief  difference  lies 
between  the  war  here  and  the  war  over  there.  And 
it  is  from  this  present  conflict  that  the  world  will 
learn.  The  Philippine  war,  costly  as  it  was  in  life 
and  money,  was  nothing  but  a  series  of  victories 
over  a  half-civilised  enemy.  But  interest  in  it  in 
America,  strange  to  say,  dwindled  to  little  or  noth- 
ing after  the  first  gunshot  in  South  Africa. 

147 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Here  was  a  different  state  of  affairs.  Cuba  (for 
Puerto  Rico  was  a  "  walk  over  ")  was  a  country  full 
of  dense  forests  and  tangled  undergrowth,  offering  a 
screen  as  well  as  a  hindrance  to  the  movements  of 
an  army.  South  Africa  is  the  greatest  defensive 
country  in  the  world,  and  the  Boer  is  trained  by 
nature  and  inheritance  to  make  the  best  of  it.  Yet 
it  took  time  to  teach  some  of  the  English  military 
leaders  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  new  conditions — 
it  was  hard  for  them  to  break  away  from  the  tradi- 
tions of  Waterloo  and  Badajos.  The  Mauser  began 
to  correct  the  old  ideas  of  warfare  in  a  way  that  it 
had  failed  to  do  in  Cuba.  The  prophecies  in  Bloch's 
remarkable  book  were  fulfilled  almost  to  the  letter. 
Proper  scouting  in  an  open  country  is  a  dead  de- 
partment of  military  service.  How  long  did  we 
lie  at  Modder  River  without  knowing  anything  of 
value  of  the  movements  of  the  enemy?  A  series 
of  kopjes  might  conceal  a  few  sharpshooters  or  an 
army — at  a  mile's  distance  scouts  were  under  the 
fire  of  an  invisible  foe.  A  good  shot  ensconced 
between  sheltering  rocks  discounted  four  men  ad- 
vancing in  the  open.  In  Cuba  the  American  troops 
were  harassed  by  marksmen  concealed  in  tree-tops 
who  often  fired  upon  them  from  the  rear,  but  the 
forces  opposed  to  them  in  front  were  mostly  in- 
fantry, and  the  problem  resolved  itself  into  a  contest 
between  individual  soldiers  as  fighting  units.  It 
was  a  soldiers'  conflict. 

A  war  in  a  country  such  as  we  have  been  fighting 
over  for  the  last  five  months  admits  of  one  thing 

148 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

only — the  strategic  movements  of  a  military  genius. 
The  generalship  of  a  great  leader  is  a  necessity. 
Bravery  is  well-nigh  wasted  and  courage  almost 
discounted.  Mobility  of  force  is  essential,  forces 
operating  at  great  distances  but  under  one  central 
head  are  a  sine  qua  non,  and  in  long-range  artillery 
lies  the  preponderancy  of  power.  More  and  more 
does  the  great  game  approximate  the  moves  in  a 
chess  problem.  It  must  be  admitted  that  in  Cuba 
there  were  no  such  scientific  movements,  and  it  has 
taken  the  march  of  Lord  Roberts  from  Enslin  to 
Bloemfontein  to  prove  the  fact  beyond  question  that 
soldiers'  battles,  where  one  side  is  entrenched  and 
invisible  and  the  other  advancing  in  attack,  are 
things  of  the  past,  except  in  a  wooded  country  or 
where  all  preliminary  movements  are  concealed. 
We  had  soldiers'  battles  here,  but  by  fighting  them 
the  lesson  has  been  taught  from  which  the  world 
will  learn. 


AN  OFFICIAL  DINNER  AT  GOVERNMENT 
HOUSE 

On  Tuesday,  March  20th,  Lord  Roberts  enter- 
tained the  following  Military  Attaches,  accredited  by 
the  Great  Powers  to  his  stafif,  at  dinner  at  Govern- 
ment House: 

Colonel  Stakovitch,  Russia;  Commandant 
d'Amadi,  France;  Major  Esteben,  Spain;  Captain 
Baron  V.  Luttwitz,  Germany;  Captain  Slocum, 
America;  Captain  Hieroka,  Japan. 

149 


War's  Brighter  Side 

There  were  also  invited  the  following  to  meet  the 
distinguished  guests :  Lieut.  General  Sir  H.  Colvile, 
Lieut.  General  Kelly-Kenny,  Major  General  Sir  W. 
Nicholson,  Major  General  Pretyman,  Major  General 
Wood,  Major  General  Marshall,  Major  General 
Pole-Carew,  Major  General  Gorden,  The  Very 
Revd.  Dean  of  Bloemfontein,  the  Hon'ble  Mr.  J.  G. 
Fraser;  the  Private  Secretary;  the  Military  Secre- 
tary; Major  General  Kelly,  Colonel  Richardson,  Mr. 
Justice  Hopley,  Colonel  Stevenson,  Colonel  Vis- 
count Downe,  Lieut.  Colonel  Otter,  Captain  Bear- 
croft,  Lieut.  Colonel  Ricardo,  Colonel  H.  C.  Chol- 
mondeley.  Colonel  Lord  Stanley,  Reverend  H.  J. 
Coney,  Lieut.  Colonel  Byron,  A.D.C.,  Captain  Lord 
Herbert  Scott,  A.D.C. 

After  the  Queen's  health  had  been  drunk,  Lord 
Roberts,  in  a  happy  little  speech  in  which  he  pro- 
posed the  health  of  the  foreign  Attaches,  said  that  he 
had  much  regretted  while  in  Capetown  not  having 
been  able  to  entertain  the  Attaches,  but  now  he  felt 
some  satisfaction  at  not  having  been  able  to  do  it,  as 
he  was  able  to  entertain  them  as  comrades,  while  at 
Capetown  they  would  only  have  been  representatives 
of  foreign  Powers.  He  had  often  been  distressed 
at  seeing  the  Attaches  undergoing  many  discomforts 
on  the  march.  But  it  had  shown  him  that  they  were 
officers  devoted  to  their  duty,  and  regardless  of  all 
discomforts.  He  had  not  heard  complaint  or  mur- 
mur of  discontent  at  their  want  of  comfort,  in  fact, 
the  only  complaint  made  was  one  to  Lord  Downe  in 
which  Attaches  represented  to  him  that  he,  with  a 

150 


Lord  Roberts's  Headquarters 

regard  for  their  personal  safety,  had  not  allowed 
them  to  go  as  close  as  they  could  wish  to  the  passing 
line.  It  had  been  a  great  pleasure  to  see  them  there 
that  night,  and  he  hoped  before  long  to  be  able  to 
entertain  them  again  in  Pretoria. 

Colonel  Stakovitch,  the  Russian  Attache,  replied, 
saying  how  pleasant  it  had  been  for  him  and  his 
comrades  to  accompany  the  British  Army  on  their 
great  and  successful  march.  He  thanked  the  Field 
Marshal  for  his  kindness  and  courtesy  to  them,  and 
wound  up  by  proposing  the  health  of  Lord  Roberts 
and  his  army,  to  which  Lord  Roberts  made  a  suit- 
able reply. 

The  band  of  the  Buflfs  played  a  selection  of  music 
during  dinner. 

The  Austrian  Attache  was  unavoidably  absent, 
having  left  on  a  short  visit  to  Capetown. 


51 


CHAPTER  IX 

''Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

All  Ranks  join  our  Corps  of  Contributors,  and  the 
Paper  Sparkles 

Generals,  colonels,  majors,  captains,  subal- 
terns, privates,  war  correspondents  who  had  not 
connected  themselves  with  our  venture,  naval 
officers — all  ranks  and  all  sorts,  suddenly  rushed 
to  our  support,  in  consequence  of  my  wail  for 
help,  and  The  Friend  took  on  an  interest 
greater,  I  truly  think,  than  that  of  any  newspaper 
then  published  in  the  language.  Its  circulation 
rose  among  the  thousands  where  the  largest  daily 
distribution  had  been  only  400  copies  before 
the  war. 

We  numbered  the  paper  of  March  24th  "  No. 
6,"  though  it  was  in  reality  the  eighth  copy  we 
had  published,  six  being  the  number  since  we 
had  enlarged  it  to  its  final  size.  I  marvel  at  our 
success  as  I  look  back  upon  this  number. 

Sir  William  Nicholson,  K.C.B.,  wrote  an  ap- 
preciation of  the  character,  life,  and  work  of  the 
152 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

late  Sir  William  Lockhart;  General  Sir  Henry 
E.  Colvile  sent  us  a  double  acrostic,  which  the 
Dutch  ones  among  our  eccentric  compositors 
ruined  so  far  beyond  repair  that  it  would  not  be 
just  to  reproduce  its  mangled  remains;  Mr. 
Lionel  James,  who  had  come  over  from  the  Natal 
side  to  further  distinguish  the  staff  of  the  Times, 
wrote  upon  the  death  of  our  gifted  colleague, 
George  W.  Steevens.  Rudyard  Kipling  con- 
tributed to  this  number  the  first  of  his  delicious 
''Fables  for  the  Staff";  a  distinguished  officer 
who  shall  remain  nameless  in  this  connection, 
contributed  an  article  on  "  Beards  in  War  ";  and 
Mr.  Gwynne  began  a  series  of  letters  entitled  "  Is 
the  Art  of  War  Revolutionised?  "  written  solely 
to  interest  the  Army  and  spur  its  thinking  men 
to  respond. 

Mr.  H.  Prevost  Battersby,  of  the  London 
Morning  Post,  was  another  distinguished  con- 
tributor to  this  number. 

Mr.  Kipling  now  became  a  regular  harnessed 
member  of  the  four-in-hand  team  that  pulled  the 
paper.  With  pen  in  hand  and  pipe  in  mouth  he 
sat  at  the  larger  of  the  two  tables  in  our  editorial 
pokehole,  and  beginning  with  a  "  Now,  what 
shall  I  do?  Write  a  poem,  or  a  fable,  or  correct 
proofs?  "  would  fall  to  and  toil  away  with  an 
enthusiasm  born  of  the  long  time  it  had  been 
since  he  had  ''  smelled  the  sawdust  of  the  ring." 
153 


War's  Brighter  Side 

"  Oh,  how  good  it  is  to  be  at  work  in  a  news- 
paper office  again!"  he  exclaimed  on  the  first 
day,  doubtless  with  recollections  of  the  sanctum 
of  the  Allahabad  Pioneer  strong  upon  him,  and 
the  memory  of  the  time  when  the  precursors  of 
the  ''  Plain  Tales  "  and  of  the  Barrack  Room 
Ballads  were  demanded  of  him  almost  every  day, 
and  gave  him  the  practice  to  produce  the  care- 
fully finished  and  matured  work  we  are  now  see- 
ing in  the  novel  ''  Kim,"  at  which  he  was  at 
work — in  the  laboratory  of  his  mind — even  as 
he  sat  with  us  in  Bloemfontein. 

We  wondered  at  his  enthusiasm,  and,  per- 
haps, had  it  not  been  of  his  doing,  we  should 
have  resented  the  impetus  it  gave  us  to  toil  as 
never  war  correspondents  worked  before — all 
day  for  The  Friend  and  far  into  the  nights  to 
catch  the  mails  with  our  home  correspondence. 
But  we  soon  came  to  see  that  the  same  tremen- 
dous energy  and  ceaseless  flow  of  wit  and  fancy 
were  his  by  nature,  and  would  have  found  ex- 
pression as  well  in  a  tent  on  the  veldt  as  in  that 
office.  He  was  always  while  with  us  like  a  great 
healthy  boy  in  spirits  and  vitality,  good  humour, 
and  enterprise. 

With  us  he  yelled  "  Haven't  any;  go  to  Bar- 
low's shop  around  the  corner,"  to  the  Tommies 
who  trod  on  one  another's  heels  to  get  copies  of 
the  paper  from  us  who  had  not  got  them.  With 
154 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

US  he  consigned  the  Dutch  compositor  to  eons 
of  boiling  torment  for  the  trouble  his  errors  gave 
us.  With  us  he  entertained  Lord  Stanley,  who 
now  came,  out  of  kindness,  at  noon  every  day,  to 
save  us  the  trouble  of  sending  our  proof-sheets 
over  to  him  at  his  office.  And  from  us  he  insisted 
upon  taking  all  the  ''  Tommy  poetry,"  as  we 
called  it,  that  came  to  the  office.  When  we  de- 
rided much  of  it  as  outrageous  twaddle,  he 
praised  its  quality.  On  this  day,  I  remember, 
we  were  beUttling  a  particular  poem  that  he  was 
reading,  and  he  called  out,  ''  Why,  that  is  splen- 
did stuff!  Listen  to  these  lines — '  Rule  Britan- 
nia, Britannia  rules  the  waves:  Britons  never, 
never,  never  shall  be  slaves! '  "  The  reader  will 
find  this  particular  poem  in  the  paper — put  there 
by  our  distinguished  poetry  editor. 

THE    FRIEND. 

SATURDAY,    MARCH    24,    I90O. 

FABLES  FOR  THE  STAFF  ^ 

King  Log  and  King  Stork 

by  rudyard  kipling 

I 

Certain  Boers,  having  blown  up  a  Bridge,  de- 
parted in  the  Face  of  the  British  Army,  which,  ar- 

^  Copyrighted  in  England  and  America;  used  here  by  Mr. 
Kipling's  leave. 


War's  Brighter  Side 

riving  at  that  dynamited  Place,  made  Outcry  to  the 
Gods,  saying,  ''  Oh,  Jupiter,  these  Ruffians  have 
blocked  the  Traffic,  and  we  are  vastly  incommoded. 
Is  there  Anything  worse  than  the  Boer  ?  " 

This  being  reported  to  the  Railway  Authorities, 
they  caused  a  Railway  Staff  Officer  to  be  sent  to  that 
Bridge  with  Instructions  to  facilitate  Matters  by  all 
means  in  his  Power. 

Later  on  They  picked  up  What  was  left  of  the 
British  Army  in  those  parts — one  dusty  Shovelful, 
and  its  Lamentations  were  louder  than  before. 

''  Ungrateful  Wretches,"  said  the  Military  Au- 
thorities ;  *'  what  would  you  now  have  ?  " 

And  the  Remnant  of  the  British  with  one  Accord 
answered,  "  Give  us  back  the  Boer !  " 


COMMANDEERING     ' 

Our  hero  was  a  Tommy,  with  a 

conscience  free  from  care. 
And  such  an  open  countenance  that 

when  he  breathed  the  air 
He  used  up  all  the  atmosphere — so 

little  went  to  spare. 
You  could  hardly  say  he  breathed, 

— he  commandeered  it. 

For,  nowadays,  you'll  notice  when 
a  man  is  "  on  the  make," 

And  other  people's  property  is 
anxious  for  to  take, 

156 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

We  never  use  such  words  as 
steal,  or  "  collar,"  "  pinch," 
or  "  shake." 

The  fashion  is  to  say  he  "  com- 
mandeers "  it. 

And  our  simple-minded  hero  used 
to  grumble  at  his  lot. 

Said  he,  "  This  commandeerin's 
just  a  little  bit  too  hot. 

A  fellow  has  to  carry  every  bloom- 
ing thing  he's  got, 

For  whatever  he  lets  fall  they'll 
commandeer  it." 

So,  at  last  in  desperation,  this  most 
simple-minded  elf. 

He  thought  he'd  do  a  little  com- 
mandeering for  himself ; 

And  the  first  thing  that  he  noticed 
was  a  bottle  on  a  shelf 

In  a  cottage,  so  he  thought  he'd 
commandeer  it. 

"  What  ho  !  "  says  he,  "  a  bottle ! 
and,  by  George,  it's  full  of  beer ! 

And  there's  no  commandin' 
officer  to  come  and  interfere. 

So  here's  my  bloomin'  health," 

says  he ;  "  I'm  on  the  commandeer.'* 

And  without  another  word  he  com- 
mandeered it.  Anonymous. 
157 


War's  Brighter  Side 

SIR  WILLIAM  LOCKHART 

BY    SIR   WILLIAM    NICHOLSON,    K.C.B. 

Sir  William  Lockhart's  death,  as  recently  an- 
nounced in  Army  Orders,  will  be  deeply  deplored 
by  his  many  friends  in  the  Army  in  South  Africa. 
It  was  known  that  he  had  been  seriously  ill  last 
September,  but  he  had  seemingly  recovered  when 
he  visited  Burma  in  December.  On  his  return  to 
Calcutta  in  January,  symptoms  developed  them- 
selves which  caused  great  anxiety,  and,  although 
he  telegraphed  to  the  effect  that  he  hoped  soon  to 
be  all  right  again,  the  end  was  not  far  distant. 

Apart  from  his  ability  as  a  soldier  and  adminis- 
trator, Sir  William  Lockhart  endeared  himself  to  all 
who  had  the  privilege  of  his  personal  acquaintance 
by  his  charming  manners,  his  genial  hospitality  and 
his  kindness  of  heart.  Born  in  1842,  he  joined  the 
Indian  Army  in  1858,  and  during  the  Mutiny  he 
was  attached  to  the  7th  Fusiliers.  He  afterwards 
served  with'  the  26th  Punjab  Infantry,  the  loth 
Bengal  Lancers,  and  the  14th  Bengal  Lancers.  He 
was  employed  on  the  Staff  in  the  Abyssinian  Ex- 
pedition. 

When  the  Acheen  War  broke  out  he  was  attached 
to  the  Headquarters  of  the  Dutch  Force,  where  he 
made  himself  extremely  popular.  It  was  interesting 
to  hear  him  describe  the  Dutch  method  of  fighting, 
which,  as  might  be  imagined,  led  to  no  decisive 
result.    The  climate  being  tropical,  the  Dutch  would 

158 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

only  attack  the  enemy  in  the  early  morning;  the 
rest  of  the  day  being  spent  in  camp.  The  enemy 
were  more  active,  and  caused  the  Dutch  much  an- 
noyance by  frequently  disturbing  their  afternoon 
siesta.  As  no  means  of  transport  were  asked  for  or 
provided,  the  campaign  was  of  a  purely  defensive 
nature,  and  at  the  end  of  it  things  were  virtually  in 
the  same  state  as  at  the  beginning. 

After  remaining  in  Acheen  about  eighteen 
months,  Lockhart  returned  to  India,  where  he 
joined  the  Quartermaster-General's  Department, 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  Afghan  War  he  was 
chosen  to  take  charge  of  the  line  of  communica- 
tions up  the  Khyber.  He  afterwards  joined  Lord 
Roberts'  Staff  as  Assistant  Quartermaster-General 
at  Kabul,  and  for  a  short  time  acted  as  Chief  of  the 
Staff  on  Charles  MacGregor  being  selected  for  the 
command  of  a  brigade.  In  that  capacity  he  had 
hoped  to  accompany  his  illustrious  Chief  in  the 
march  from  Kabul  to  Kandahar,  but  General  Chap- 
man being  his  senior  on  the  staff,  it  was  decided, 
much  to  Lockhart's  disappointment,  that  he  should 
return  to  India  as  Chief  of  the  Staff  with  the  troops 
under  Sir  Donald  Stewart's  command. 

He  received  a  C.B.  and  brevet  Colonelcy  for  his 
services  in  Afghanistan,  and  was  afterwards  ap- 
pointed Deputy  Quartermaster-General  for  Intelli- 
gence at  Army  Headquarters,  where  he  remained 
until  1886,  when  Lord  Roberts  became  Commander- 
in-Chief  in  India  in  succession  to  Sir  Donald  Stew- 
art.   He  was  then  sent  on  an  exploring  expedition 

12  159 


War's  Brighter  Side 

with  the  late  Colonel  Woodthorpe,  R.E.,  to  Chitral 
and  Kafiristan,  and  the  admirable  report  which  he 
drew  up  was  of  the  greatest  value  to  the  Government 
of  India  in  considering  what  steps  should  be  taken 
to  guard  the  northern  passes  between  the  Pamirs 
and  the  Peshawar  Valley. 

On  his  return  to  India,  Lockhart  was  ofifered  the 
Quartermaster- Generalship  in  that  country,  but  he 
preferred  the  command  of  a  Brigade  in  Burma, 
where  he  greatly  distinguished  himself  by  his 
activity  in  pursuit  of  Dacoits.  His  health,  however, 
was  undermined  by  continual  attacks  of  fever,  and 
he  had  to  be  invalided  home,  where,  after  a  short 
interval,  he  became  Assistant  Military  Secretary  for 
India  at  the  Horse  Guards. 

After  holding  this  post  for  a  couple  of  years,  he 
accepted  the  command  of  the  Punjab  Frontier 
Force,  which  was  ofifered  him  by  Lord  Roberts,  and 
in  that  capacity  he  commanded  a  brigade  in  the 
Black  Mountain  Expedition  under  the  late  Sir  W. 
K.  Elles,  and  held  the  chief  command  in  the  Waziri- 
stan  and  Isazai  Expeditions.  No  abler  or  more 
sympathetic  general  ever  commanded  the  Punjab 
Frontier  Force;  he  was  beloved  alike  by  the 
British  officers  and  the  Native  ranks;  he  main- 
tained the  traditions  of  the  Force  and  raised  it  to 
the  highest  standard  of  efficiency ;  and  when  he  left 
it  he  had  good  reason  for  regarding  it,  as  he  always 
did  regard  it,  as  the  corps  d'elite  of  the  Indian  Army. 

In  April,  1895,  the  Presidential  Armies  were 
broken  up  and  the  Army  Corps  System  was  intro- 

160 


«  Oh,  How  Good  it  Was !  " 

duced,  Sir  William  Lockhart  being  nominated  to 
the  command  of  the  Forces  in  the  Punjab.  In  this 
appointment  he  displayed  administrative  talents  of  a 
high  order,  his  main  object  being  to  decentralise  re- 
sponsibility and  authority,  and  to  diminish  office 
work  and  official  correspondence.  It  was  in  a  great 
measure  due  to  his  efforts  in  this  direction  that  the 
new  system  worked  so  smoothly.  When  he  became 
Commander-in-Chief  he  kept  the  same  end  in  view 
by  granting  the  fullest  possible  powers  to  the  Lieu- 
tenant-Generals  of  the  four  Commands  and  to  the 
General  Officers  commanding  Districts,  and  by  in- 
sisting on  their  making  use  of  those  powers  to  the 
fullest  extent. 

In  March,  1897,  Sir  William  Lockhart  went 
home,  having  been  advised  to  undergo  a  course  of 
treatment  at  Nauheim.  Meanwhile,  disturbances 
took  place  along  the  North-West  Frontier,  which 
culminated  in  an  outbreak  of  the  Orakzaia  and 
Afridis,  and  the  capture  by  the  latter  of  our  posts  in 
the  Khyber  Pass.  In  September  he  was  hurriedly 
recalled  to  India  for  the  purpose  of  commanding 
the  Tirah  Expeditionary  Force.  This  is  not  the 
place  to  discuss  the  operations  in  Tirah,  which  were 
much  criticised  at  home.  The  fact  is  that  the  Brit- 
ish public  had  become  so  accustomed  to  almost 
bloodless  victories  over  savage  enemies  that  they 
failed  to  appreciate  the  extraordinary  difficulties  of 
the  Afridi  country,  and  the  advantages  to  the 
defence  which  the  possession  of  long-range  rifles 
and  smokeless  powder  confers.     Moreover,  there 

161 


War's  Brighter  Side 

are  no  better  marksmen  in  the  world  than  the 
Afridis,  who  are  born  soldiers,  and  the  mobility  of 
hardy  mountaineers  in  their  native  hills  necessarily 
exceeds  that  of  regular  troops  encumbered  with  bag- 
gage and  supplies. 

Anyhow,  the  result  of  the  expedition  fully  justi- 
fied the  choice  of  its  commander.  The  Afridis  ac- 
knowledged themselves  to  be  thoroughly  beaten ; 
and  Sir  William  Lockhart's  tact  in  dealing  with  them 
after  they  had  submitted  has  led  to  the  re-establish- 
ment of  friendly  relations  between  them  and  our- 
selves on  a  firmer  basis  than  before.  What  their 
present  attitude  is  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that 
Yar  Mahomed,  the  head  of  the  Malikdin  Khels,  re- 
cently petitioned  the  Government  of  India  to  be 
allowed  to  raise  1,500  tribesmen  for  service  in  South 
Africa. 

On  the  conclusion  of  the  Tirah  campaign  Sir 
William  Lockhart  took  leave  to  England,  and  came 
out  again  as  Commander-in-Chief  in  India  in 
November,  1898.  He  died  on  the  i8th  of  March, 
1900.  In  him,  as  Lord  Roberts  has  remarked  in 
his  Army  Orders  of  the  20th  inst.,  "  the  soldiers  in 
India  have  lost  a  friend,  and  the  Indian  Empire 
a  trusted  counsellor  who  cannot  soon  or  easily  be 
replaced." 

The  late  Commander-in-Chief  was  one  of  the 
few  remaining  representatives  of  the  Quartermaster- 
General's  Department  in  India,  and  to  the  admirable 
training  which  that  department  afiforded  much  of  his 
success  as  a  soldier  must  be  ascribed.     No  better 

162 


(( 


Oh,  How  Good  it  Was! 


school  of  practical  instruction  in  Staff  duties  could 
be  desired.  Among  its  pupils  may  be  mentioned 
Lord  Roberts  himself,  Sir  Charles  MacGregor,  Sir 
Herbert  Stewart,  Sir  William  Lockhart,  and  Sir 
Alfred  Gaselee.  Now,  alas!  it  has  been  abolished, 
or,  at  least,  incorporated  in  the  Adjutant-General's 
Department. 

THE  QUARTERMASTER'S  YARN 

E.    J.    K.    NEWMAN,    LIEUT.    R.N. 

Dear  Mr.  Editor, — The  following  lines  were 
written  by  me  on  board  the  mail  steamer,  about  two 
young  soldiers  now  serving  with  the  army : — 

Twas  on  the  deck,  that  around  our  ship, 

from  the  mast  to  the  taffrail  ran, 
I  saw  alone,  in  a  chair  (not  their  own), 

a  tall  young  girl  and  a  man. 
Her  hair  was  light  and  fluffy 

and  swarthy  and  dark  was  he, 
And  I  saw  the  coon,  one  afternoon, 

a-spooning  that  girl  quite  free. 

So  I  spotted  a  Quartermaster  bold  as  he 

went  from  the  wheel  to  tea. 
And  I  asked  that  Jack,  if  upon  that  tack, 

the  passengers  went  to  sea. 
"  Lord  love  yer  honour,  we  often  sees  that, 

the  stewards  and  the  likes  of  us ; 
There's  always  couples  a-spooning  there, 

but  we  never  makes  no  fuss. 

163 


War's  Brighter  Side 

"  If  you  look  around,  you'll  see,  I'll  be  bound, 

each  day  at  a  quarter  to  three, 
A  tall  young  fellow  with  curly  hair 

and  a  girl  in  black,  quite  young  and  fair, 

That's  another  couple,"  says  he. 
"  And  every  night,  I  assure  you  it's  right, 

straight  up  on  this  deck  they'll  come 
And  spoon  around,  till  it's  time  to  go  down. 

One  night  'twas  a  quarter  to  one." 

"  Now  it  suddenly  struck  me  early  one  morn, 

this  might  be  a  serious  thing. 
Perhaps  they  loves,  these  two  little  doves, 

and  has  offered  them  the  ring. 
So  I  leaves  them  alone  in  the  world  of  their  own ; 

and  this  'twixt  you  and  me, 
I  hope  I  shall,  by  each  little  gal, 

to  the  wedding  invited  be." 


LATER 

Then  the  Quartermaster  brushed  away 

a  tear  with  his  horny  hand. 
The  last  couple  now  have  had  a  row, 

and  don't  speak,  I  understand. 
*Tis  not  a  fable,  she  won't  sit  at  his  table 

As  she  used  to  do  of  old ; 
But  has  taken  up  with  a  married  man. 

At  least,  so  I've  been  told. 

Old  Salt. 


164 


'^Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 


THE  SECOND  RELIEF  OF  KIMBERLEY 

Dear  Friend, — I  suppose  that  General  French 
and  his  lot  think  they  relieved  Kimberley?  Well, 
that's  all  right,  and  in  spite  of  his  name  being  forrin, 
he's  a  good  chap ;  so,  as  Billy  the  Sailor  says,  let's 
make  it  so.  But  I  should  like  to  know  where  would 
French  be  now  if  it  wasn't  for  Billy  and  the  Yank? 

Now,  you  being  an  up-to-date  paper,  we  thought 
you  might  like  to  have  an  account  of  the  battle 
which  hasn't  ever  yet  appeared  in  any  paper  in  the 
world,  yet,  as  our  Adjutant  would  say,  was  the  most 
strategically  important  part  of  the  whole  blooming 
show. 

It  was  me  and  Billy  and  the  Yank.  Billy's  a 
sailor — says  he  was  leftenant  in  the  Navy,  and  I 
really  believe  he  might  have  been — he  couldn't  have 
learnt  to  ride  so  badly  anywhere  else,  and  how  he 
faked  himself  through  the  riding  test  is  a  miracle — 
then  his  langwidge  is  beautiful.  The  Yank's  a 
Yank ;  you  can  tell  that  by  his  langwidge,  too,  and 
me  being  an  old  soldier  (12  years  in  the  Buffs  and 
discharge  certificate  all  correct),  I  was  made  No.  i 
of  our  section ;  our  No.  4  was  an  Irishman  we  left 
behind  at  Orange  with  a  broken  head,  all  through 
fighting  outside  the  Canteen. 

Well,  when  French  left  Modder,  February  15th, 
we  hadn't  a  horse  among  the  three  of  us  fit  to  carry 
his  own  skin ;  so  there  we  was  left.  Our  troop 
leader  said  he  hoped  to  Heaven  he'd  seen  the  last 
of  us,  but  all  the  same  he  gave  us  a  written  order, 

165 


War's  Brighter  Side 

correct  enough,  to  catch  up  the  squadron  as  soon 
as  possible.  There  wasn't  much  doing  all  day, 
barring  a  bit  of  cooking,  but  that  evening  we  was 
sitting  round  the  fire  when  an  M.I.  chap  comes 
round  and  says  he's  heard  there'd  be  free  drinks 
for  the  Relief  Force  in  Kimberley,  and  perhaps  our 
pals  was  drinking  'em  now.  That  was  the  first  time 
our  Billy  really  woke  up  all  day.  ''  Free  drinks," 
sezee ;  ''  that's  my  sailing  orders."  Me  and  the 
Yank  didn't  mind,  so  we  sounds  boot  and  saddle 
to  ourselves  in  the  dark,  and  off  we  slips  without 
a  word  to  nobody.  My  horse  seemed  cheered  up  by 
the  day's  rest,  but  before  Fd  gone  half  a  mile  I  found 
I  got  the  wrong  horse  by  mistake !  and  you'll  hardly 
believe  that  both  Billy  and  the  Yank  had  made  mis- 
takes too  !  Lor',  how  we  did  laugh  !  but  there,  there 
ain't  no  accounting  for  horses  in  the  dark. 

We  each  had  our  own  notions  of  the  road ;  the 
Yank  swore  he  was  tracking  the  big  English  cavalry 
horses ;  Billy  was  steering  Nor'  Wes'  by  Nor'  on 
some  star  or  other ;  and  I  didn't  want  to  argufy,  so  I 
just  shoves  on  a  couple  of  lengths  and  marched  on 
the  Kimberley  flashlight. 

We  was  going  a  fair  pace  too  ("  making  six 
knots  "),  and  had  done  near  two  hours,  when  all  of  a 
sudden  we  comes  over  a  kopje  right  on  to  the  top  of 
a  bivouack,  fires  and  all. 

"  Let's  get  "— "  Go  astern  "— "  Sections  about  " 
— and  we  did  so,  back  behind  the  kopje,  linked 
horses,  and  crawled  up  again  on  our  hands  and 
knees. 

i66 


"  Oh,  How  Good  it  Was !  " 

"  First  thing,"  says  I,  quoting  our  Adjutant,  "  is 
to  kalkulate  the  numbers  of  the  enemy." 

"  Twenty  thousand,"  says  Billy,  who  always  did 
reckon  a  bit  large.  "  Make  it  hundreds,"  says  the 
Yank,  sneering — "  and  I  wouldn't  mind  betting  a 
pint  myself  that  there  was  the  best  part  of  two  dozen 
of  'em." 

"  Next  point,"  says  I,  "  who  are  they?  " 

"  I  bleeve  they're  Highlanders,  after  all,"  says 
Billy ;  "  see  the  way  they're  lowering  whisky  out  of 
them  bottles." 

"  Well  then,"  says  the  Yank,  "  you'd  better  ride 
up  and  say  you're  the  General,  and  they'll  drop  the 
whisky  and  run." 

'*  Highlanders,"  says  I,  "  don't  care  a  cuss  for 
Boers  nor  Generals,  but  say  you're  the  Provost 
Marshal  and  they  won't  stop  running  this  side  of 
Kimberley." 

"  Those  men,  sir,"  says  the  Yank,  "  air  not  High- 
landers. Billy's  eyes  was  took  with  them  bottles  and 
got  no  further.  Those  men  don't  wear  leg  curtains, 
nor  even  loud  checked  bags.  They  air  Boers."  And 
by  Jove  he  was  right. 

"  Well  then,"  says  I,  getting  back  to  point  three, 
"  what's  their  position  ?  " 

"  Straight  there,"  says  the  Yank.  "  Mostly  lying 
on  their  stummicks,"  says  Billy. 

"  My  friends,"  says  I,  "  if  your  Adjutant  should 
hear  you  now  he'd  break  his  blighted  heart.  Look 
here,  there's  General  French  lowering  free  drinks  in 
Kimberley,  ain't  he  ?    There's  the  British  infantry  at 

167 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Modder,  ten  miles  back,  ain't  they?  And  there's 
twenty  thousand  Boers  plunk  in  the  middle,  ain't 
they?  That  means,  as  Adjy  would  say,  General 
French  is  busted.  Vaultin'  ambition !  Another 
orful  disaster !  " 

*'  My  friends,  we  must  reskew  General  French." 

"  General  be  blowed !  "  says  Billy ;  "  let's  reskew 
the  whisky." 

"  Well,  bein'  agreed  on  reskewin',  wot's  our  plan 
of  battle  ?  A  frontal  attack  is  always  to  be  depre — 
well,  something  that  means  it's  a  bally  error.  Take 
'em  on  the  starboard  quarter,  then." 

"  But  the  first  principel  of  tactics  is  to  mystify 
and  mislead  the  foe." 

So  far  the  Yank  had  been  lying  rather  low,  but 
now  he  chips  in — 

"  Say,  chum,  you've  pegged  it  out  straight  there, 
and  if  it  ain't  jumping  your  claim,  FU  carry  on  the 
working."  He  did  know  a  bit,  the  Yank  did,  and 
we'd  fixed  up  the  job  in  no  time.  He'd  a  bag  of 
about  a  hundred  loose  cartridges  he'd  been  carrying 
for  days,  and  in  two  minutes  he'd  a  nice  hot  glowing 
fire  right  down  in  a  cleft  behind  the  kopjy  where  it 
didn't  show  a  bit.  "  Now  boys,"  says  I,  taking  com- 
mand again,  "  that  bag  of  cartridges  on  the  top  of 
that  fire  will  make  as  much  musketry  noise  as  a 
brigade  fits  of  joy.  We'll  let  them  have  a  few  real 
bullets  bang  in  the  middle  to  help  out  the  illooshun. 
We're  three  full  battalions  advancing  to  attack,  and 
mind  you  let  them  hear  it ;  not  a  word  till  the  first 
cartridge  pops  off,  and  then  all  the  noise  you  know." 

l68 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

We  extended  to  fifty  paces.  Billy  said  it  would 
come  more  natiiral  if  he  was  the  Naval  Brigade,  and 
we  puts  him  on  the  right.  The  Yank  wanted  to  be 
the  "  Fighting  Fifth,"  it  reminded  him  somehow  of 
fighting  Stonewall  Jackson  down  South ;  and  the 
old  Buffs  was  good  enough  for  me,  and  I  took  the 
left.  When  we'd  fixed  our  places  up  nicely  and 
charged  magazines,  the  Yank  slips  back  to  our  fire 
and  plunks  the  bag  of  cartridges  down  in  the  mid- 
dle.   Then  we  waited  what  seemed  like  a  year. 

"  Bang !  "  from  the  fire. 

"  At  'em,  my  hearties !  "  roared  the  Naval  Bri- 
gade ;  ''  broadside  fire — don't  lay  on  the  whisky — 
well  done,  Condor! " 

"  Steady  the  Buffs,"  says  I ;  "  volley  firing  with 
magazines — ready — fixed  sights — at  that  fat  old 
buster  next  the  fire — present — Fire !  "  and  sooting 
the  action  to  the  word  I  let  the  old  buster  have  a 
volley  in  the  fattest  part. 

The  Fighting  Fifth  didn't  make  much  noise,  but 
was  shooting  straight  enough. 

Those  cartridges  went  off  so  quick,  once  they'd 
started,  that  I  knew  they  couldn't  last  long,  so  I 
gives  'em  one  more  file  of  my  magazine  and  then 
whistles  on  my  fingers,  "  Cease  fire !  " — pop  went 
the  last  cartridge  on  the  fire — "  Who's  that  silly 
blighter  firin'  after  the  whistle  goes  ? — take  his  name, 
Sergeant-Majer — Now,  Buffs,  fix  bayonets — pre- 
pare to  charge !  " 

"  Avast  heaving,  full  speed  ahead  and  ram 
them !  "  yells  the  Naval  Brigade.      But  the  Boers 

169 


War's  Brighter  Side 

didn't  wait  for  that — what  with  the  dark,  and  sur- 
prise and  noise,  let  alone  a  few  real  bullets,  they  had 
gone  for  their  horses  and  were  moving  hard. 

"  Now  then.  Lancers !  "  I  holloared,  ''  round  our 
left  flank  and  pursue  them  to  the  devil !  "  That  was 
just  enough  to  prevent  them  turning  their  heads  for 
the  first  mile  or  so.  Then  our  brigade  reforms  and 
went  down  the  hill  to  tally  up  the  loot.  There  was 
half  a  dozen  cripples,  none  of  them  bad,  half  a  dozen 
knee-haltered  horses,  a  pot  of  stew  on  the  fire,  and 
half  a  dozen  black  bottles.  The  Fighting  Fifth,  who 
was  a  kind-hearted  chap  in  his  way,  turned  over  the 
wounded,  gave  them  a  sup  of  water,  and  tied  them 
up  with  bits  of  their  own  shirts.  The  Naval  Brigade 
had  sweated  through  everything  it  had  on,  barrin' 
its  rifle,  just  out  of  pure  excitement,  and  it  went  for 
the  bottles  like  a  cartload  of  bricks.  Blessed  if  they 
weren't  Dop!  ^  "  Never  mind,"  says  the  Naval  Bri- 
gade, "  if  the  quality  ain't  up  to  Admiralty  pattern, 
we'll  have  to  issue  a  double  ration  " — and  he  did — 
so  help  me !  Meanwhile  the  Bufifs  had  collected  the 
horses  and  picked  out  a  nice  little  chestnut  for  my- 
self. After  that  the  Brigade  fell  out  and  enjoyed 
itself. 

But  we  couldn't  waste  too  much  time,  so  after 
half  an  hour  we  changed  saddles,  packed  the  dop  in 
our  wallets,  and  hoisted  the  Naval  Brigade  on  board. 
The  whole  way  to  Kimberley  he  was  fighting  the 
Condor  against  the  combined  land  and  sea  forces  of 
all  creation — even  the  Yank  laughed  fit  to  burst.    I 

*  Cape  brandy,  also  known  as  "  Cape  smoke." 
170 


ii 


Oh,  How  Good  it  Was ! " 


do  believe  Billy  might  have  been  a  commander — 
one  can't  learn  langwidge  like  that,  even  in  the  Navy, 
under  a  longish  time. 

Well,  we  fetched  Kimberley  about  reveille  after 
falling  off  our  horses  now  and  then,  and  we  gives 
the  Sergeant-Major  half  a  bottle  to  look  pleasant. 
Up  we  goes  before  the  troop  leader,  who  looked  a 
bit  glum  at  his  own  written  order,  but  cheered  up 
when  I  hands  over  three  spare  Boer  horses  we'd 
brought  along. 

''  If  I  hear  any  more  of  this  damfoolishness," 
sezee,  ''  I'll  hang  the  lot  of  you ;  so  you'd  better  take 
care  that  nobody  knows  of  it."  He's  almost  as  hard 
as  the  Adjy. 

Well,  that's  why  we  don't  say  what  Regiment  we 
belong  to.  But  just  to  give  the  devil  his  jew  we 
don't  see  why  General  French  gets  all  the  telegrams 
from  the  Queen  and  Lord  Mayors — and  we  ain't 
even  had  our  chocolate  served  out  yet. 

But  this  is  the  truth— Billy  and  the  Yank'll  both 
swear  to  it. 

Yours  truly, 

Number  One. 


IS  THE  ART  OF  WAR  REVOLUTIONISED? 

BY   H.   A.    GWYNNE 

I. — Infantry 
Since  the  days  of  bows  and  arrows  the  art  of  war 
has  been  gradually  developing.     The  arquebus  fol- 
lowed the  silent  bow,  and  perhaps  it  may  be  said 
171 


War's  Brighter  Side 

that  this  change  was  the  most  revolutionary  change 
ever  experienced  in  the  history  of  warfare.  But  the 
arquebus  could  not  effectively  prevent  the  opposing 
forces  from  coming  to  close  quarters,  and  therefore 
the  strong  man  with  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
use  of  the  arme  blanche — be  it  pike,  sword,  or  spear 
— was  the  mainstay  of  their  armies.  With  the  suc- 
cessive introduction  of  the  matchlock.  Brown  Bess, 
and  the  host  of  old  muzzle-loading  rifles,  up  to  the 
time  when  the  Snider  rifle  came  into  use,  still  the 
same  conditions  of  fighting  remained.  By  the  same 
conditions  I  mean  the  following : — 

(i)  The  enemy,  when  firing  at  an  effective  range, 
was  visible  to  the  naked  eye  of  his  opponent. 

(2)  Even  when  concealed  behind  cover  the 
smoke  of  his  rifle  easily  disclosed  his  position. 

(3)  Neither  the  accuracy  nor  the  rapidity  of  fire 
was  sufficient  to  make  an  attack  across  open  ground 
by  a  slightly  superior  force  impossible. 

The  introduction  of  the  Martini-Henry  com- 
pletely altered  at  least  the  third  of  these  conditions, 
but  owing  to  the  fact  that  no  European  war  of  great 
importance  was  fought  with  Martini-Henrys,  the 
change  was  not  brought  home  to  military  theorists. 
It  is  true  that  the  Turks  fought  the  Greeks  with  the 
Martini  and  the  Gras  rifles,  but  the  war  was  not 
serious,  and  the  Greeks  never  held  even  their  en- 
trenched positions  with  sufficient  tenacity  to  bring 
home  to  the  world  the  fact  that  an  advance  across 
the  open  towards  an  enemy  under  cover  was  becom- 
ing more  and  more  impossible. 

172 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

But  smokeless  powder  and  the  long  range  rifle 
brought  with  them  changes  which  do  not  appear  to 
be  properly  understood.  In  the  first  place,  it  may 
be  laid  down  as  an  axiom  of  warfare  that  the  area  of 
efifective  rifle  fire  (and  indeed  of  any  fire)  is  restricted 
by  the  areas  of  vision.  During  the  present  war  it 
has  become  evident  to  those  who  have  studied  the 
question,  that  the  dangerous  zone  of  fire  with 
modern  rifles  is  not,  as  was  at  first  supposed,  within 
the  I, GOO  yards  range,  but  within  1,500  or  even 
1,600  yards. 

To  advance  in  the  open  against  an  enemy,  even 
when  that  enemy  is  not  under  cover  but  simply  lying 
on  the  ground,  involves  one  of  two  alternatives. 
Either  the  advancing  force  is  annihilated  by  the  time 
it  gets  to  within  500  yards  of  the  enemy,  or  it  is 
forced  to  He  down  1,500  yards  away  or  less  and 
return  the  enemy's  fire.  But  the  latter  alternative 
produces  a  state  of  things  which  has  never  been 
known  in  the  history  of  war.  Both  the  advancing 
and  the  expectant  forces  are  put  out  of  action. 
Neither  can  advance  and,  which  is  more  serious  still, 
neither  can  retire. 

This  contingency  opened  up  an  entirely  new  field 
of  tactics.  The  general  who  can,  with  a  smaller 
force,  succeed  in  putting  out  of  action,  at  least  for 
the  time  being,  a  greater  force  of  his  opponent,  is 
more  likely  to  win  his  battle.  In  the  future,  the 
curious  sight  will  be  seen  of  regiments  or  even 
brigades  lying  flat  on  the  ground,  doing  little 
damage  to  the  enemy  and  suffering  little  loss,  and 

173 


War's  Brighter  Side 

yet  being  as  useless  to  their  general  as  if  they  were 
snoring  in  their  barracks  at  home.  Perhaps  this  is 
too  sweeping,  for  their  presence  in  front  of  the 
enemy  will  have  the  advantage  of  containing  him, 
but  in  the  open,  across  which  an  enemy  has  to  ad- 
vance, a  containing  force  of  a  proportion  of  one 
man  to  five  of  the  enemy  is  quite  sufficient.  There- 
fore the  use  of  a  brigade  to  contain  a  brigade  would 
be  a  waste  of  material.  Even  those  of  us  who  have 
followed  closely  and  carefully  all  the  stages  of  the 
campaign  do  not  yet  perceive  the  magnitude  of  the 
changes  involved  by  the  use  of  modern  rifies,  but 
they  appear  to  me  to  be  so  radical  that  instead  of 
describing  them  as  fresh  developments,  I  would 
prefer  to  give  an  affirmative  answer  to  the  title  of 
this  article. 

But  there  yet  remains  to  be  discussed  the  ques- 
tion of  the  arme  blanche — the  bayonet,  the  weapon 
with  which  our  gallant  army  has  won  so  many  of  its 
victories.  I  have  heard  not  a  few  officers  declare 
that  this  war  will  be  known  in  history  as  the  last  war 
in  which  a  British  soldier  carried  a  bayonet.  But  is 
the  discarding  of  the  bayonet  to  be  one  of  the  results 
of  the  use  of  the  new  rifle  and  the  smokeless  pow- 
der? When  fighting  against  an  enemy  who  does 
not  carry  it,  the  force  which  is  armed  with  a  bayonet 
has  a  tremendous  moral  superiority.  In  the  present 
war,  there  have  been  one  or  two  cases — one,  par- 
ticularly, at  Slingersfontein — where  the  Boer  has 
made  a  frontal  attack  on  a  prepared  position  held 
by  us.    The  attacks  have  always  been  made  along 

174 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

the  tops  of  kopjes  which  afforded  excellent  cover 
for  a  stealthy  advance.  The  obvious  way  to  meet 
such  attacks  was  to  wait  until  the  enemy  came  close 
enough  to  allow  the  use  of  the  bayonet,  and  this 
was  done  with  great  success  at  Slingersfontein.  So 
that  it  may  be  laid  down  that  in  cases  where  one  only 
of  two  opposing  forces  is  armed  with  the  bayonet,  it 
is  obviously  to  its  advantage  that  the  enemy  should 
in  attacking  come  to  close  quarters. 

It  is,  equally,  to  the  manifest  advantage  of  the 
defending  force,  if  unarmed  with  the  bayonet,  to 
prevent,  with  heavy  rifle  fire,  the  enemy  from  being 
able  to  use  the  bayonet.  But  in  my  humble  opin- 
ion, the  bayonet  will  not  be  discarded  for  a  long 
time.  In  the  first  place,  the  best  tactician  in  the 
world  cannot  always  prevent,  even  with  modern 
rifles,  such  things  as  surprises,  and  small  bodies  of 
men  might  still,  even  under  the  new  conditions,  be 
able  to  get  unperceived  into  close  quarters  with  the 
enemy.  But  the  greatest  reason  for  its  retention  is 
that  night  attacks  are  still  possible,  and  in  night 
attacks  the  bayonet  is  undoubtedly  the  weapon  to 
be  used.  The  very  mention,  however,  of  night 
attacks  opens  up  a  long  vista  of  discussion  and 
arguments  which  I  do  not  wish  to  raise.  I  am 
aware  that  there  are  many  prominent  soldiers  who 
will  have  nothing  to  say  to  night  attacks  and  con- 
demn them  lock,  stock  and  barrel,  but  they  can 
never  be  eliminated  from  the  already  long  list  of 
the  contingencies  of  warfare.  Until  something 
is  mooted  which  will  render  night   attacks  abso- 

'3  175 


War's  Brighter  Side 

lutely    impossible,    so   long   will    the    bayonet    be 
retained. 

But  perhaps  the  most  radical  changes  effected  by 
the  use  of  the  long  range  rifle  will  be  in  purely 
regimental  organisation.  A  company  now  extends 
for  the  attack  over  a  space  of  over  half  a  mile.  The 
ordinary  complement  of  officers  assigned  to  a  com- 
pany can  never  hope  to  control  the  whole  of  it. 
What  is  the  remedy  ?  And  how  are  we  to  bring  up 
ammunition  to  the  firing  line,  or  carry  away  our 
wounded  from  it?  Can  a  regiment  extended  for 
the  attack  eight  paces  apart  act  as  a  regiment  or  in 
the  future  is  the  company  to  be  the  biggest  infantry 
unit  in  action  ?  All  these  questions  spring  from  the 
experiences  of  the  present  campaign,  and  it  is  to  be 
hoped  that  they  will  be  answered  by  those  whose 
experience  in  the  many  engagements  against  the 
enemy  will  give  value  and  force  to  their  words. 


FROM  ENSLIN  TO  BOBSFONTEIN 

BY    H.    PREVOST    BATTERSBY 

Received  orders  at  lo  a.m.  to  proceed  at  once  to 
Ram  Dam  and  to  join  the  main  column  as  soon  as 
possible.  Requisitioned  for  transport  immediately 
and  supplied  at  6  p.rn.  with  about  four  dozen  small 
dilapidated  hair  trunks,  misnamed  mules,  which 
looked  as  if  they  required  three  square  meals  rolled 
into  one,  and  a  fortnight  in  bed!     No  self-respect- 

176 


iC 


oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 


ing  cat  would  have  looked  at  them  twice,  even  cold 
on  a  wooden  skewer ! 

Made  a  disastrous  stand  at  8  p.m.,  as  we  suc- 
ceeded in  losing  our  way  in  the  record  time  of  fifteen 
minutes,  thanks  to  having  no  guide  and  to  a  flighty 
and  uncertain  young  moon,  which  insisted  on  play- 
ing hide  and  seek  at  the  most  awkward  times.  How- 
ever, we  struck  the  wire  at  last,  not  the  barbed 
variety  fortunately,  and  had  brief  periods  of  com- 
paratively smooth  going,  variegated  by  such  trifling 
mishaps  as  a  broken  trace,  falling  mule,  or  mule  and 
harness  so  mixed  up  that  we  couldn't  distinguish 
which  was  harness  and  which  was  mule  and  re- 
quiring careful  sorting  out !  Veldt  stones  were  also 
somewhat  inconvenient,  as  they  vary  in  size  to  any- 
thing above  or  below  a  Pickford  van.  However,  it 
was  a  fine  night  and  the  mules  almost  seemed  to 
warm  to  their  work,  racing  along  in  great  style  at 
fully  three  miles  an  hour  on  a  smoothish  bit  of  road 
and  appreciably  downhill ! 

What  rapture  to  be  out  on  the  starry  veldt  and  to 
have  left  that  Enslin  "  News  " — the  transport  lines 
— miles  (five  and  a  doubtful  bit)  behind  us.  Shortly 
afterwards  the  moon  again  appeared,  and  we  pro- 
ceeded to  negotiate  a  very  promising  nullah  with 
gently  sloping  sides.  Full  speed  ahead  and  up  we 
go,  but,  alas !  the  latter  part  of  our  programme  was 
somewhat  disarranged,  like  Labby's  furniture  at 
Northampton,  owing  to  the  fact  that  buck  waggons 
and  mule  transport  are  not  adapted  to  racing 
through  a  truckload  of  sand  of  uncertain  depth  but 

177 


War's  Brighter  Side 

of  certain  difficulty !  However,  "  man  the  wheels 
and  shove  behind "  was  the  natural  sequence  of 
events,  and  when  the  mules  ceased  pulling  in  every 
direction  except  the  right  one  from  sheer  exhaus- 
tion, a  few  judicious  cracks  of  the  sjambok,  together 
with  a  few  different  languages,  mostly  bad,  and  up 
we  eventually  did  go. 

A  wide  stretch  of  perfectly  flat  veldt  lay  before  us, 
and  we  shortly  lost  both  moon  and  wire  simultane- 
ously. Some  one  suggested  "  follow  the  track  " : 
valuable  advice,  but  difficult  to  carry  out,  as  there 
happened  to  be  about  fourteen  of  them,  and  all  in 
different  directions.  Pleasant  predicament  to  be  in : 
I  a.m.,  cloudy  sky,  and  lost  on  the  anything  but 
trackless  veldt !  Feel  about  as  comfortable  as  the 
man  who  was  going  to  be  hanged  at  8  a.m.  Finally 
decided  to  proceed  at  right  angles,  and  return  our 
wrong  way  if  necessary,  and  succeeded  in  finding 
that  precious  wire  at  last.  Persistency  is  the  road 
to  success,  but  what  about  an  old  hen  sitting  on  a 
china  egg? 

Moon  on  the  wane,  but  reached  Ram  Dam  at 
3  a.m.,  and  all  of  us  surprised  and  delighted  to 
get  there,  as  it  would  have  very  shortly  been 
a  case  of  the  "  light  that  failed ! "  Ram  Dam 
itself  looks  like  a  remarkably  low  Thames  some- 
where near  the  Isle  of  Dogs,  but  glad  to  get 
anywhere,  and  ready  to  eat  or  drink  anything. 

H.  P.  B. 


178 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

G.  W.  STEEVENS 

BY    LIONEL   JAMES 

(With  an  Original  Verse  by  Rudyard  Kipling  ^) 

Through  war  and  pestilence,  red  siege  and  fire, 
Silent  and  self-contained  he  drew  his  breath. 

Too  brave  for  show  of  courage— his  desire 
Truth  as  he  saw  it,  even  to  the  death. 

Rudyard  Kipling. 

There  is  a  pretty  little  cypress  grove  nestling 
under  the  shadow  of  one  of  the  Ladysmith  defences. 
A  peaceful  oasis — green  where  the  land  is  parched 
and  dry.  It  is  God's  acre.  Before  shaking  the  dust 
of  Ladysmith  from  off  my  feet  for  ever,  I  turned  my 
pony's  head  towards  the  green.  The  little  animal 
seemed  to  know  the  way,  and  well  he  should,  for 
the  melancholy  journey  to  the  cemetery  had  been 
frequent  during  the  latter  period  of  the  siege.  I 
tied  the  pony  to  the  rail  and  passed  in  under  the 
shadow  of  the  cypresses.  The  interior  of  the  en- 
closure was  one  stretch  of  new-turned  earth.  The 
turf  seemed  all  exhausted.  The  dainty  cemetery  of 
three  months  ago  had  now  the  appearance  of  a 
badly  harrowed  field.  In  places  a  rough  cross 
marked  the  last  resting-place  of  the  victims  of  war 
and  pestilence,  a  few  had  the  names  just  scrawled 
upon  a  chip  of  wood ;  the  majority  lay  unnamed — 
the  price  of  Empire  keeping :  a  nameless  grave ! 

I  passed  down  the  clay  trodden  pathway.  The 
brief  legends  ran — Egerton,  Lafone,  Watson,  Field, 

^  Copyrighted,  used  here  by  permission. 
179 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Dalzel,  Dick-Cunyngham,  Digby  Jones,  Adams — 
but  why  name  them?  They  were  all  men  whom 
three  months  ago  I  had  called  my  friends.  Then  I 
found  the  spot  for  which  I  searched — a  plain  wooden 
cross  inscribed  G.  W.  Steevens,  and  a  date.  What 
an  end — six  feet  of  Ladysmith's  miserable  soil !  It 
was  too  cruel.  My  memory  carried  me  back  to  the 
brave  companion  and  upright  colleague  who  was 
gone,  and  to  the  manner  of  his  death — the  man  who 
had  raced  with  the  Cameron  Highlanders  for  Mah- 
moud's  zareba ;  who  had  stood  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  when  it  seemed  that  it  must  be  but  a  matter 
of  minutes  before  Wad  Helu  swallowed  up  Mac- 
donald's  Soudanese  brigade.  The  man  who  had 
scorned  death  on  Elandslaagte's  crest  lay  there  a 
victim  to  pestilential  Ladysmith.  If  the  spare  frame 
had  been  as  stout  as  the  heart  which  it  contained, 
that  miserable  rat-hole  could  not  have  brought  about 
the  end.  Poor  Steevens — how  he  strove  to  live! 
For  a  month  he  lay  and  fought  the  battle  for  life. 
And  then  when  all  seemed  well,  and  we  looked  for 
the  day  that  we  should  have  him  back  again,  he 
quietly  faded  under  a  relapse. 

Doctors  could  do  no  more,  and  at  four  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  fatal  day  it  was  evident  that  the 
end  was  near.  Maud,  who  had  nursed  him  with  a 
devotion  unsurpassed,  was  deputed  to  break  the 
news.  He  came  to  the  bedside  and  suggested  that 
Steevens  should  dictate  a  wire  to  his  people  at  home. 
The  patient  looked  up  suddenly,  and  in  a  moment 
was  conscious  of  the  sinister  purport  of  the  request. 

i8o 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

The  conversation  which  ensued  was  something  of 
the  following: — 

"  Is  it  the  end  ?  " 

Maud  nodded  assent. 

"Will  it  be  soon?" 

Again  Maud  nodded  assent. 

Steevens  turned  wearily,  and  remarked,  "  Well,  it 
is  a  strange  sideway  out !  "  Then  there  passed  over 
his  face  an  expression  which  plainly  read,  "  I  will 
not  die!" 

He  turned  to  Maud  and  said,  almost  gaily, 
"  Let's  have  a  drink," 

Maud  opened  a  new  bottle  of  champagne  and 
poured  out  half  a  glass.  Steevens  sipped  it,  and 
noticing  that  Maud  had  no  glass,  remarked,  "  You 
are  not  drinking !  " 

He  seemed  better  after  the  wine,  and  when  the 
last  message  was  dictated  he  was  still  struggling  for 
life;  but  the  disease  had  the  upper  hand,  and  he 
sank  into  unconsciousness  which  was  never  broken 
until  he  passed  away  in  the  evening. 

We  buried  him  at  midnight.  As  we  took  him 
down  to  the  cypress  grove,  it  seemed  that  the  enemy 
paid  tribute  to  our  sorrow,  for  their  searchlight 
played  full  upon  the  mournful  cavalcade  as  it  wound 
into  the  open. 

SHOULD  BEARDS  BE  WORN  IN  WAR? 
Bloemfontein,  March  23,  1900. 
Dear  Sir, — A  distinguished  General  Officer — 
who  is  also  an  exceedingly  clever  man — was  issuing 
181 


War's  Brighter  Side 

orders  on  one  occasion.  "  I  have  no  wish,"  said 
he,  "  to  interfere  with  the  time-honoured  custom 
which  ordains  that  heroes  may  be  dirty;  but,  until 
they  become  heroes,  I  see  no  reason  why  they 
should  not  try  and  look  like  soldiers.  The  troops 
under  my  command  will,  therefore,  shave  until  they 
arrive  at  the  actual  front." 

This  witty  sentence  provides  me  with  an  admi- 
rable text  for  a  sermon  on  a  subject  very  near  my 
heart.  Our  troops  have,  indeed,  proved  themselves 
heroes.  Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  expressed 
now  and  hereafter  upon  many  things  in  the  conduct 
of  this  war,  upon  one  thing  there  can  be  no  dis- 
sentient voice — I  refer  to  the  splendid  heroism  of 
our  troops.  Yes,  sir,  they  are  heroes.  But  why, 
oh !  why  do  they  not  try  and  look  like  soldiers  too  ? 
Why  should  the  erstwhile  smart  Guardsman,  the 
dandy  Highlander,  the  dapper  Horseman,  adopt  the 
facial  disguise  of  a  poacher  out  of  luck,  or  rather — 
for  the  beard  is  not  a  good  one — of  a  member  of  the 
criminal  classes  previous  to  the  Saturday  evening's 
ablutions?  Surely  soap  can  be  purchased,  razors 
ground,  and  water  heated. 

It  is  universally  admitted  that  one  of  the  chief 
duties  of  a  soldier  is  to  be  smart  in  his  appearance, 
and  the  fact  that  on  active  service  there  may  be 
some  difficulty  is  surely  no  excuse  for  its  neglect. 
In  all  other  periods  of  the  world's  history  shaving 
was  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  chiefest  necessities  in 
time  of  war.  Napoleon's  Old  Guard  shaved,  as  is 
well   known,   throughout  the   entire   retreat   from 

182 


"Oh,  How  Good  it  Was!" 

Moscow;  there  was  not  a  hair  upon  the  faces  of 
Hannibal's  legions  the  day  after  the  famous  crossing 
of  the  Alps,  while  Caesar's  well-known  order,  "  Ut 
barbas  tondeant,"  must  be  familiar  to  every  school- 
boy. I  might  come  down  to  our  own  times  and 
quote  the  Queen's  Regulations,  but  I  refrain  from 
doing  so  lest  I  should  be  accused  of  priggishness. 

It  is,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  horrible  to  me  to 
see  the  unkempt  appearance  of  those  who  might  be 
— and  are  at  other  times — the  finest-looking  troops 
in  the  world.  I  feel  inclined  to  say,  in  the  words  of 
Scripture,  "  Tarry  ye  at  Jericho  until  (and  after)  your 
beards  be  grown." 

I  hope,  sir,  you  will  forgive  this  somewhat 
lengthy  letter,  but  the  subject  is,  as  I  have  said  al- 
ready, very  near  my  heart.  No  one  ever  has  looked 
well  in  a  beard,  and  no  one  ever  will,  and  until  our 
oflficers  recognise  this  fact  and  set  an  example  of 
spruceness  for  their  men  to  follow,  the  army  in 
South  Africa  must  remain  an  eyesore  to  all  who 
share  the  opinions  of 

Your  obedient  servant. 

Field  Officer. 


183 


CHAPTER  X 

I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

And  shall  here  discuss  her,  Mr.   Kipling,  Lord 
Stanley,  and  our  own  behaviour 

We  published  in  the  next  issue,  No.  ii,  of 
March  26th,  a  letter  by  "  Miss  Uitlander  "  (pro- 
nounced in  that  country  ''  Aitlander  ").  It  was 
as  genuine  a  production  of  the  young  woman- 
hood of  the  town  as  that  of  "  Miss  Bloemfon- 
tein "  had  been,  and  it  would  have  been  wholly 
to  our  liking  had  it  been  as  exceptional  and  bold 
a  bit  of  work  as  the  other,  for  it  was,  naturally, 
very  pro-English.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  it  an- 
swered and  contradicted  the  Boer  sentiments 
with  vigour. 

This  reminded  us  that  we  were  to  enjoy  no 
more  communications  from  the  sprightly  and 
talented  Miss  Bloemfontein.  Most  gallantly  we 
had  resolved  to  allow  her  the  last  word  and  there 
end  the  correspondence,  but  she  had  remained 
silent,  leaving  us  with  that  "  last  word  "  which 
184 


Miss  Bloemfontein. 
(A  Portrayal  of  a  Type,  by  Lester  Ralph.) 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

we,  like  simpletons,  had  never  doubted  that  she 
would  claim  as  hers  by  right  of  her  womanhood. 
She  was  laughing  at  the  predicament  in  which 
she  had  abandoned  us,  for  she  was  wide  awake 
at  all  points. 

She  had  done  me  the  honour  to  ask  me  to 
call  upon  her  and — in  this  the  laugh  was  on  my 
side — then  had  repented  of  it.  She  repented 
because,  in  my  reply  to  her  communication,  I 
had  addressed  her  as  ''  sweetheart  "  and  had 
called  her  "  dear."  It  had  happened  that  when 
she  wrote  to  the  paper  she  let  a  few  close  friends 
into  the  secret,  and  these,  when  they  read  my 
lover's  terms  addressed  to  her,  made  haste  to 
twit  her  upon  the  publicity  of  these  verbal  ca- 
resses, so  that  from  rose-and-pearl  she  became 
peony  red  and  hot  of  cheeks,  and  not  nearly  as 
desirous  of  seeing  me  as  before  my  second  letter 
saw  the  light. 

However,  I  went  to  her  home  and  found  it 
very  prettily  appointed  and  comfortable,  with  an 
admiring  family  gathered  around  their  girlish 
idol  who  had  been  to  London,  and  who  sang 
sweetly,  played  the  piano  deftly,  and  seemed  to 
have  read  at  least  a  little  upon  many  subjects. 
She  was,  I  should  say,  seventeen  or  eighteen,  a 
pure  blonde,  still  very  girlish  both  in  face  and 
figure.  I  spent  a  pleasant  hour  in  her  company, 
and  an  English  of^cer  who  called  there  at  the 
185 


War's  Brighter  Side 

same  time  endeavoured  to  persuade  her  to  make 
up  a  party  for  afternoon  tea  at  his  regimental 
camp  near  the  town.  But  her  mother  had  an- 
nounced that  she  could  not  bear  to  walk  in  the 
streets  and  see  the  British  soldiers  disfiguring 
the  once  hallowed  scenery  of  the  place,  so  it 
was  perhaps  no  wonder  that  Miss  Bloemfon- 
tein  decHned  to  take  afternoon  tea  with  those 
enemies. 

"  I  will  not  do  anything  to  encourage  or  rec- 
ognise their  presence,"  she  said. 

*'  When  your  mother  is  not  looking,  I  am 
going  to  whisper  something  to  you,"  I  re- 
marked. "  Now  is  my  time.  It  is  this  :  You 
are  a  little  fraud;  you  are  no  Boer  at  all." 

I  intended  to  go  on  and  explain  that  a  girl  so 
clever  and  well  read,  and  who  lived  amid  such 
refined  surroundings,  could  not  possibly  sympa- 
thise with  a  semi-civilised  and  non-moral  race. 
But  she  suspected  that  I  meant  something 
different. 

*'  You  mean  because  I  am  a  Jewess,"  she 
said. 

And  then  came  the  most  comical  closing 
of  this  very  peculiar  episode.  She,  who  elect- 
ed herself  to  be  the  thampion  of  the  Boers, 
was  a  Jewess,  and  I,  who  wooed  her  sup- 
posed sisterhood  as  an  English  adorer,  am  an 
American. 

1 86 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

Ah,  well,  little  Miss  Bloemfontein,  I  was  at 
least  genuine  in  standing  up  for  liberty,  justice, 
and  the  highest  principles  of  good  govern- 
ment. They  are  the  prizes  that  are  guarded 
by  my  flag  as  well  as  by  the  one  which  floats 
over  your  town.  And  if  you  were  as  earnest 
in  your  sympathy  for  the  Boers  it  was  either 
because  you  had  been  deceived  by  them  as  to 
the  causes  of  the  war  and  the  issues  at  stake,  or 
else  it  was  because  your  loyalty  to  the  friends 
of  a  lifetime  outweighed  all  else.  May  we 
not,  then,  part  here  with  mutual  esteem  and 
respect? 

In  this  number  we  pubUshed  two  contribu- 
tions by  Mr.  Kipling,  a  second  one  of  the  "  Fa- 
bles for  the  Staff "  and  some  ''  Kopje-book 
Maxims."  All  of  us  tried  to  assist  at  the  fram- 
ing of  these  maxims,  but,  though  we  suggested 
two  or  three  (Mr.  Landon  being  the  most  fertile 
at  the  time),  Mr.  Kipling  shaped  them  all  in  his 
own  way  and  with  a  readiness  and  ease  which  ex- 
celled any  work  of  composition  that  I  have  ever 
seen  done  by  any  writer  in  all  my  experience. 
It  was  said  of  him  three  or  four  years  ago  that 
he  was  then  writing  too  much,  but  it  will  always 
seem  to  us  that  his  difficulty  must  be  in  restrain- 
ing himself,  and  in  publishing  only  the  best  that 
wells  from  his  mind. 

Another  peculiarity  that  we  noticed  was  that 
187 


War's  Brighter  Side 

he  would,  by  preference,  carry  forward  two  or 
three  manuscripts  at  once  and  would  write,  now 
at  one,  and  presently  at  another.  The  "  Kopje- 
book  Maxims  "  reveal  this  breadth  and  variety 
of  his  mental  processes  to  whoever  is  able  to  un- 
derstand the  fine  shadings  of  the  meanings  of 
them  all,  and  to  those  who  can  comprehend  the 
fact  that  they  were  Hterally  "  dashed  off  "  hot, 
like  sparks  under  a  smith's  hammer.  If  these 
mere  playthings  of  his  pen,  done  as  part  of  our 
merry  and  careless  morning's  work,  were  forced 
to  stand  as  specimen  products  of  the  methods 
of  this  master  writer,  an  injustice  to  him 
would  follow.  The  point  is  that  his  methods 
are  the  same,  and  his  mind  works  with  simi- 
lar freedom  and  celerity,  at  all  times,  and  at 
whatever  he  does;  at  least  so  far  as  we  are 
able  to  judge.  But  what  he  wrote  for  The 
Friend  was  finished  and  published  on  the  in- 
stant with  no  after-polishing  and  refinement, 
like  the  flawless  work  he  has  made  us  know 
so  well. 

In  this  same  number  we  printed  an  interest- 
ing forecast  of  the  future  of  the  Free  State  by 
Mr.  Fred  J.  Engelbach.  An  ofificer  sent  us  a 
jocular  account  of  the  amazingly  plucky  work 
being  done  by  the  Ordnance  Survey — and  par- 
ticularly of  one  feat  by  Major  Jackson,  R.E. 
We  also  published,  from  my  pen,  a  short  warn- 
i88 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

ing  to  the  soldiers  not  to  drink  the  water  out  of 
certain  wells  which  had  for  years  been  known  to 
contain  the  germs  of  enteric.  I  learned  the  fact 
during  my  visit  to  my  "  sweetheart,"  Miss 
Bloemfontein,  and  as  I  look  back,  now,  upon 
that  paragraph  I  almost  shudder  to  think  how 
little  we  dreamed  that  in  a  few  weeks  7,000  men 
of  our  force  would  be  down  with  that  dread 
disease. 

I  have  referred  to  the  fact  that  Lord  Stan- 
ley came  every  day  at  noon  to  overlook  what 
we  had  done.  I  would  ask  for  nothing  more 
amusing  than  to  have  heard  his  gossip  at 
the  Residency  upon  the  manner  in  which  he 
found  The  Friend  to  be  conducted  and  pro- 
duced. The  truth  was  that  we  had  finished 
everything  for  the  day,  except  the  interminable 
proof-reading,  by  the  time  he  reached  what 
the  country  editor  grandiloquently  refers  to 
as  our  "  sanctum  sanctorum."  In  consequence 
he  always  caught  us  just  as  we  were  looking  up 
from  our  desks  and  taking  a  deep  breath  of 
relief. 

We  who  have  been  raised  in  this  profession 
may  not  realise  just  what  applause  is  to  an  actor, 
or  what  there  may  be  to  a  bareback  rider  in  the 
"  smell  of  the  sawdust,"  but  we  do  know  and 
fully  realise  that  journalism  is  perhaps  the  only 
calling  that  men  find  as  full  of  fun  as  it  is  of 
189 


War's  Brighter  Side 

hard  work.  The  company  of  bright  minds, 
certain  to  be  sanguine  and  optimistic,  the 
excitement  produced  by  unexpected  news, 
the  rush  to  prepare  it  most  atttractively  and 
against  time,  the  thousand  unpubUshable  con- 
ceits and  views  and  arguments  that  leap  to 
the  mind  and  are  discussed  in  council,  the 
freaks  and  blunders  of  the  reporters  and 
contributors — all  these  elements  are  in  the 
cup  of  joy  that  a  journalist  drinks  off 
every  day. 

Therefore  when  Lord  Stanley  came  he  was 
certain  to  find  us  merry  and  voluble  and  prank- 
ish. He  may  have  imagined  that  we  must  per- 
force be  grave — we  to  whom  was  given  the 
high  and  almost  religious  right  to  speak  for 
an  empire  and  an  army,  and  to  conduct  a 
British  organ  in  so  delicate  a  situation  as  was 
ours  among  the  Boers — neither  offending  them 
nor  giving  them  a  chance  to  find  a  flaw  in 
the  practice  of  our  principles.  Grave  enough 
was  that  part  of  our  work  which  we  meant  to 
be  so. 

Serious  in  its  strain  upon  us  and  important 
in  its  effort  to  rest  and  inform  and  recreate  the 
soldiers,  was  most  of  what  we  did.  But  it  is  a 
habit  of  the  journalist's  mind  and  a  result  of  his 
work  that  he  shall  be  or  become  a  philosopher, 
viewing  the  world  as  it  is,  no  matter  how  differ- 
190 


I   Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

ently  he  may  present  it  to  a  duller  and  more  con- 
servative public. 

Therefore  Lord  Stanley  >found  us  declaiming 
soldier  poetry,  writing  nonsense  verses,  drawing 
caricatures  of  one  another,  telling  stories,  behav- 
ing like  men  without  a  care  on  their  minds.  We 
realised  that  he  must  be  shocked  at  us — and  we 
voted  that  he  behaved  very  well  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. He  usually  came  in  with  a  quick 
step  and  an  air  of  business.  We  delayed  him 
with  chafif  which  he  seemed  always  at  a  loss  to 
understand  at  first.  He  got  at  our  bundles  of 
proof-sheets  and  he  applied  himself  to  them 
most  gravely.  By  and  by  he  began  to  catch  the 
contagion  of  our  spirits,  his  eye  wandered  from 
the  sheets,  he  wavered — he  began  to  join  in  our 
talk.  "  Is  there  anything  else — or  anything 
you  are  in  doubt  about?"  he  would  ask.  He 
believed  us  when  we  answered  him,  for  he  knew 
that  we  understood  what  not  to  publish.  In 
that  mutual  trust  and  confidence  there  grew  up 
a  relation  between  us  and  himself  which  was 
dearly  prized  by  us,  and  which  we  hoped  he  es- 
teemed as  highly. 

Once  he  told  us  that  there  had  been  com- 
plaint of  a  mock-speech  by  the  German  Emperor 
which  some  one  had  written  among  a  lot  of  pre- 
tended cablegrams  avowedly  fanciful.  Once  he 
declined  to  publish  a  mild  attack  of  mine  upon 
14  191 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Mr.  Winston  S.  Churchill  for  finding  fault  with 
our  army  chaplains.  At  another  time,  upon  the 
ground  of  prudence,  he  threw  out  an  article 
upon  our  treasonous  colonists  which  we  copied 
from  an  Afrikander  exchange.  Apart  from 
these  slight  exercises  of  his  power  he  passed  all 
our  work,  though  it  was  as  big  in  bulk  as  the 
"  Newcomes  "  and  "  Vanity  Fair  "  rolled  to- 
gether— 300,000  words — ten  columns  a  day  for 
thirty  days! 

I  have  called  the  censor's  of^ce  a  ''  hole  in  a 
wall,"  but  our  sanctum  was  not  half  as  neat  or 
presentable.  Whoever  has  carried  the  collect- 
ing mania  into  the  study  of  country  newspa- 
per of^ces  has  noticed  how  one  never  dff¥ers 
from  another.  The  greasy  smell  of  printer's 
ink,  the  distempered  walls  stuck  over  here  and 
there  with  placards  and  the  imprint  of  inky 
fingers,  the  gaping  fireplace,  the  bare,  littered 
floor,  the  table  all  cut  on  top  and  chipped  at 
the  edges,  the  bottomless  chairs  with  varying 
degrees  of  further  dismemberment,  the  "  clank 
— clank "  of  the  press  in  the  next  room — 
these  are  the  proofs  positive  of  genuine  coun- 
try newspaper  offices  the  world  around — 
from  Simla  to  Bismarck,  Dakota,  and  back 
again.  And  the  office  of  The  Friend  was  like 
all  the  rest. 


?9? 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts'  Force.) 
BLOEMFONTEIN,   MONDAY,    MARCH    26,    I900. 

FABLES  FOR  THE  STAFF  ^ 

The  Elephant  and  the  Lark's  Nest 

by  rudyard  kipling 

II 

A  discriminating  Boer,  having  laid  a  Nestfull  of 
valuable  and  informing  Eggs,  fled  across  the  Hori- 
zon under  pressure  of  necessity,  leaving  his  Nest  in 
a  secluded  Spot,  where  it  was  discovered  by  a  Dis- 
interested Observer  who  reported  the  same  to  an 
Intelligence  Officer.  The  Latter  arriving  at  his 
Leisure  with  a  great  Pomposity  said :  *'  See  me 
hatch !  "  and  sitting  down  without  reserve  converted 
the  entire  Output  into  an  unnecessary  Omelette. 

After  the  Mess  was  removed,  the  Disinterested 
Observer  observed :  "  Had  you  approached  this 
matter  in  another  spirit  you  might  have  obtained 
Valuable  Information." 

"  That,"  replied  the  Intelligence  Officer,  "  shows 
your  narrow-minded  Prejudice.  Besides  I  am 
morally  certain  that  those  Eggs  come  out  of  a 
Mare's  Nest" 

"  It  is  now  too  late  to  inquire,"  said  the  Dis- 
interested Observer,  "  and  that  is  a  pity." 

*  Copyrighted,  used  here  with  the  author's  permission. 


War's  Brighter  Side 

"But  am  I  not  an  Intelligence  Officer?"  said 
the  Intelligence  Officer. 

"  Of  that  there  can  be  no  two  opinions,"  said  the 
Disinterested  Observer.  Whereupon  he  was  sent 
down. 

Moral.   Do  not  teach  the  Intelligence  to  suck  Eggs. 


KOPJE-BOOK  MAXIMS  ^ 

BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 

(With  suggestive  help  from  Percival  Landon) 

HORSE 

Two  Horses  will  shift  a  Camp  if  they  be  dead 
enough. 

Forage  is  Victory ;  Lyddite  is  Gas. 

Look  before  you  Lope. 

When  in  doubt  Flank ;  when  in  force  Outflank. 

FOOT 

Take  care  of  the  towns  and  the  Tents  will  take 
care  of  themselves. 

Spare  the  Solitary  Horseman  on  the  sky-line ;  he 
is  bound  to  be  a  Britisher. 

Abandoned  Women  and  Abandoned  Kopjes  are 
best  left  alone. 

Raise  your  hat  to  the  Boer — and  you'll  get 
shot. 

*  Copyrighted,  used  here  by  permission. 
194 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 


GUNS 

The  Dead  Gunner  laughed  at  the  Pom-pom. 

"  I  Bet  I  killed  '  Eighty,'  "  roared  the  4.7. 

*'  I  have  buried  my  three,"  snapped  the  Lee- 
Metford. 

"  It  is  well  to  keep  your  hair  on ;  it  is  Better  to 
take  out  your  Tompion." 

A  shell  on  the  Rand  is  worth  ten  on  the  veldt. 

There  are  ninety  and  nine  roads  to  Stellenbosch, 
but  only  two  to  Pretoria.    Take  the  other. 

(Kopjeright  in  all  armies  and  standing  camps.) 


IS  THE  ART  OF  WAR  REVOLUTIONISED? 

BY    H.    A.    GWYNNE 

II. — Artillery 

"  When  a  battery  comes  under  rifle  fire  it  be- 
comes worse  than  useless,"  once  said  a  well-known 
foreign  military  expert.  And  if  this  statement  is 
to  be  accepted,  as  we  accept  Euclid's  axioms,  then 
indeed  I  should  be  inclined  to  say  that  the  art  of  war 
has  become  revolutionised  completely.  But  having 
seen  G  Battery  at  Magersfontein  practically  silence 
at  a  range  well  within  1,500  yards  (I  believe  at  one 
time  it  was  only  1,200  yards)  a  strong  force  of  the 
enemy's  riflemen  firing  from  good  cover  on  an  un- 
dulating plain,  it  becomes  apparent  that  the  military 
expert's  dictum  is  incorrect.  I  cite  the  instance  of 
G  Battery  because,  perhaps,  it  is  the  best  known  in 
19=5 


War's  Brighter  Side 

the  operations  in  the  Western  Frontier,  but  I  could, 
if  necessary,  give  twenty  cases  where  both  Horse 
and  Field  Batteries  have  worked  magnificently  and 
effectively  under  a  galling  fire. 

At  the  same  time  I  do  not  wish,  for  a  moment,  to 
lay  it  down  as  one  of  the  rules  of  modern  warfare 
that  guns  can  be  worked  with  impunity  within  1,500 
or  even  2,000  yards  of  the  enemy's  rifle  fire,  for  the 
danger  of  being  put  out  is  so  apparent  that  it  needs 
no  demonstration.  But  artillery  must  have  a  good 
"  position."  Batteries  cannot  be  hidden  behind 
boulders  as  infantry  soldiers  can.  Gunners  must 
have  an  open  field  and  more  or  less  a  commanding 
point  from  which  to  lay  their  guns.  This  necessity 
— a  necessity  to  which  no  other  arms  are  so  com- 
pletely subjected — has  entailed,  during  the  course  of 
the  present  war,  the  risk  of  whole  batteries  being 
under  rifle  fire.  Before  the  introduction  of  the  long- 
range  rifle,  there  were  but  few  instances  where  guns, 
in  order  to  take  up  proper  positions,  were  forced  to 
come  under  effective  rifle  fire.  Now,  however,  we 
have  to  face  this  risky  possibility.  And  in  this 
respect,  and  this  respect  only,  can  the  use  of  the 
modern  rifle  be  said  to  have  made  any  change  in  the 
rules  of  war  laid  down  for  the  use  of  artillery. 

The  present  campaign,  if  viewed  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  artilleryman,  is  an  abnormal  one. 
Field  and  horse  batteries  have  had  to  face  what  has 
been  practically  siege  artillery.  In  Natal  we  have 
been  outranged  by  the  use,  by  the  Boers,  of  guns  of 
great  calibre  and  no  mobility.    We  have  faced  the 

196 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

difficulty — and  successfully  too — by  bringing  on  to 
the  field  naval  guns  of  equal  calibre  to  the  enemy's. 
And,  although  we  have  been  surprised  at  the  rapid 
way  in  which  the  Boers  have  shifted  their  heavy 
guns,  I  still  dare  to  think  that  we  can  move  our  4.7 
guns  with  greater  rapidity.  My  intention,  however, 
is  not  to  discuss  the  use  of  the  naval  large  calibre 
guns  in  field  operations.  Such  a  discussion  would 
be  outside  the  scope  of  this  article.  I  prefer  to  look 
upon  their  use  in  this  campaign  as  an  abnormal  epi- 
sode— which,  perhaps,  may  never  again  occur  in 
civilised  warfare,  except  in  case  of  sieges. 

Artillery  in  operation  in  the  field  is  represented 
by  Horse  and  Field  (Howitzers  and  ordinary)  guns. 
Now  what  lessons  have  our  artillery  learnt  from  the 
engagements  of  the  present  war  ?  That  is  the  most 
important  question,  and  I  propose  to  answer  it  to 
the  best  of  my  ability,  feeling  and  hoping  that  my 
answer  will  induce  abler  answers  from  other  pens. 

It  is  impossible,  in  discussing  the  uses  and  abuses 
of  any  particular  arm,  to  dissociate  that  arm  from 
the  whole  to  which  it  belongs.  A  complete  modern 
force  should  consist  of  a  proper  proportion  of  horse, 
foot,  and  artillery.  The  three  form  the  whole,  the 
perfect  machine.  The  parts  must  fit  into  each  other 
as  the  cogs  of  one  wheel  fit  into  those  of  another.  In 
the  war  of  the  future  infantry  will  be  used  for  two 
purposes — to  contain  the  opposing  infantry,  and  to 
hold  positions  seized  by  the  mobile  portion  of  the 
force,  be  it  cavalry  or  mounted  infantry.  There  will 
be  very  little  preparation  by  the  artillery  for  infantry 

197 


War's  Brighter  Side 

attack,  for  the  simple  reason  that  I  am  convinced 
that  frontal  attacks  are  things  of  the  past.  Not  the 
modernest  of  modern  artillery,  lyddite,  melinite,  or 
whatever  high  explosive  is  used,  can  by  frontal  con- 
centration move  or  weaken  infantry  sufficiently  to 
destroy  their  defensive  power  against  an  infantry 
attack. 

There  will,  therefore,  be  in  the  next  war  between 
European  or  civilised  military  Powers  grand  artil- 
lery duels  between  the  opposing  artillery,  while  the 
mounted  force  of  one  is  trying  to  outflank  the  other. 
The  obvious  necessity,  therefore,  is  the  highest  de- 
velopment of  the  most  mobile  portion  of  the  artillery 
— the  R.H.A.  Flank  movements  must  necessarily 
be  the  tactics  of  the  future.  Battles  will  be,  as  they 
always  have  been,  won  by  strategy,  but  for  modern 
strategy  and  modern  tactics  the  great  necessity  will 
be  the  greatest  mobility  of  the  greatest  force.  But 
the  British  Army,  as  it  certainly  possesses  the  finest 
material  for  infantry  in  the  world,  also  possesses,  I 
feel  sure,  as  fine  an  artillery  as  any.  I  am  not  talking 
now  of  guns,  but  of  the  men  who  work  them.  In 
attempting  to  outflank  an  enemy  with  the  mobile 
portion  of  his  force,  the  general  of  the  next  war  will 
find  his  flanking  movement  met  by  the  mobile  por- 
tion of  his  opponent's  army.  The  result  is  to  be 
either  a  return  to  the  old  cavalry  charges  against 
cavalry  or  an  artillery  diiel.  The  latter,  I  believe,  will 
be  the  case.  The  cavalry  of  the  future  will  be  a 
mixture  of  the  mounted  infantry  men  and  the  cav- 
alry men,  and  as  such  will  be  able  to  stop  with  rifle 

198 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

fire  any  attempts  at  the  old-fashioned  charge,  and 
the  verdict  will  be  pronounced  by  the  gunners. 
Then,  indeed,  will  the  better-trained,  better-equipped, 
better-handled  horse  artillery  be  able  either  to  drive 
back  the  attack  and  so  save  the  whole  situation,  or 
to  force  in  the  defence  and  win  the  whole  battle. 
Wherefore  it  would  appear  to  me  that  we  should 
improve  and  improve  our  horse  artillery  until  we 
have  the  best  guns,  the  best  gunners,  and  the  best 
organisation  in  the  world.  I  know  we  have  the  best 
material. 

Exactly  the  same  thing  applies  to  the  Field  Artil- 
lery, which  I,  for  one,  would  like  to  see  done  away 
with.  That  is  to  say,  that  the  distinctions  between 
Horse  and  Field  Artillery  should  be  removed.  I 
would  give  a  heavier  gun  and  a  better  gun  to  the 
Horse  Battery,  and  make  the  Field  Battery  men 
mobile.  This  would  give  us  an  uniform  artillery,  in 
which  the  mobility  of  the  Field  guns  would  be 
increased  and  the  range  of  Horse  guns  improved. 
After  all,  the  difference  in  weight  of  a  Field  and 
a  Horse  gun  is  not  so  great.  We  must  be  pre- 
pared to  provide  some  means  of  moving  it  more 
rapidly.  The  advantages  of  this  change  appear  to 
be  self-evident.  The  quick  and  rapid  movement  of 
artillery  is  bound  to  be  the  great  factor  in  future 
battles.  We  are  making  our  infantry  men  mobile, 
every  day;  why  not  do  the  same  with  the  artillery? 
If  we  can  bring  up  a  gun  of  equal  calibre  to  that  of 
the  enemy,  the  issue  will  be  to  the  better-manned, 
better-handled  gun.    To  be  able  to  rapidly  throw  a 

199 


War's  Brighter  Side 

great  force  on  any  given  point  of  the  enemy's  line  is 
to  ensure  victory  in  infantry  tactics.  The  same  thing 
applies,  surely,  to  the  artillery.  Why  have  a  slow 
and  a  rapid  moving  artillery?  Why  not  make  the 
whole  of  it  capable  of  rapidity? 

This  campaign  has  been  the  first  between  two 
civilised  nations  where  high  explosives  have  been 
used  in  the  bursting  charges.  I  have  made  careful 
inquiries  from  Boer  prisoners  as  to  its  effect,  and  the 
only  conclusion  that  I  have  come  to  is  that  veracity 
is  not  a  virtue  of  the  burgher.  Some  have  spoken  of 
the  bursting  of  a  lyddite  shell  as  the  most  terrible  ex- 
perience they  have  ever  had,  and  have  compared  its 
action  to  that  of  an  earthquake.  But  I  must  confess 
that  on  pursuing  my  inquiries  further  I  have  gen- 
erally found  that  these  vivid  portrayers  of  its  awful 
effects  have  been  attached  to  some  hospital  in  the 
rear.  The  prisoners  taken  at  Paardeberg  were  sin- 
gularly divided  as  to  its  destructive  power.  Albrecht 
is  said  to  have  declared  that  it  was  a  pure  waste  to 
drop  a  lyddite  shell  into  soft  ground,  and  to  have 
admitted  that  on  rocky  ground  it  had  a  most  de- 
moralising effect.  On  the  whole,  however,  I  am  in- 
clined to  say  that  the  effect  of  lyddite  is  certainly 
not  as  great  as  we  expected,  and  I  cannot  help  think- 
ing that  time-shrapnel  well  burst  and  well  aimed  is 
more  dreaded  by  the  Boers  than  lyddite  shells. 

And  now  I  am  going  to  tread  on  delicate  ground. 
We  have  all  our  little  idiosyncrasies,  and  gunners  are 
not  without  theirs.  They  will  have  nothing  to  say  to 
the  Vickers-Maxim.    "  It  is  a  toy  and  not  a  gun,"  I 

200  ' 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

have  heard  many  a  gunner  declare.  But  I  contend 
that  we  have  never  used  it  properly.  Lord  Dun- 
donald's  galloping  Maxim  was  intended  to  accom- 
pany cavalry.  Why  not  have  a  galloping  "  pom- 
pom "  ?  It  can  be  brought  into  action  with  great 
speed,  it  has  a  great  range,  and  everybody  will  agree 
that  it  is  a  most  accurate  gun.  It  would  have  been 
most  useful  against  the  Boers  when  they  fled  from 
Poplar  Grove,  and  its  effect  upon  a  battery  coming 
into  action  is  not  to  be  despised,  as  the  gallant  T 
Battery  will  testify  from  their  experiences  at  Drie- 
fontein.  Again,  its  use  on  kopjes  held  by  cavalry 
pending  the  arrival  of  infantry  would  surely  be  bene- 
ficial. It  has  a  demoralising  efifect;  even  more  so 
than  a  percussion  shrapnel,  and  our  enemy  in  the 
present  campaign  is  particularly  susceptible  to  de- 
moralisation when  operating  in  open  ground. 

One  of  the  difficulties  with  which  the  artillery  in 
the  present  campaign  has  had  to  contend  has  been 
to  find  out  the  extent  of  our  infantry  advance  for 
which  they  are  preparing  with  a  bombardment.  As 
the  Mauser  and  Lee-Metford  render  early  cover 
necessary  for  infantry,  it  has  come  about  that  our 
infantry,  while  seeking  to  render  itself  invisible  to 
the  enemy,  has  succeeded  in  making  itself  almost 
entirely  invisible  to  our  supporting  artillery.  On 
many  occasions  our  artillery  has  ceased  fire  long 
before  it  was  necessary,  because  it  became  impos- 
sible to  tell  how  far  our  advance  extended,  for  no 
artillery  officer — and  rightly  so — will  run  the  risk 
of   inflicting   damage  on   his   own   infantry.     The 

20I 


War's  Brighter  Side 

remedy  for  this  state  of  things  has  yet  to  be  dis- 
covered. 

In  making  public  opinions  such  as  these — the 
opinions  of  a  mere  layman — I  should  feel  inclined  to 
make  some  kind  of  apology,  knowing  as  I  do  that 
they  are  liable  to  be  read  by  men  whose  whole  life  is 
devoted  to  the  practice  as  well  as  the  theory  of  the 
use  of  artillery  in  the  field,  were  it  not  for  the  fact 
that  I  am  optimistic  enough  to  believe  that  my  re- 
marks will  provoke  criticism.  I  am  aware  that  the 
British  officer  is  not  much  given  to  rushing  into 
print,  but  I  am  also  convinced  that  he  will  not  sit 
tamely  by  when  heresies  are  propagated.  If,  there- 
fore, the  views  I  have  enounced  are  unsound  and 
unpractical,  it  is  his  bounden  duty  to  contradict 
them.  And  in  doing  so  he  will  probably  contribute 
his  own  views,  which  will  undoubtedly  receive  far 
greater  attention,  from  the  fact  that  they  are  set 
forth  by  men  actually  serving  in  the  field,  than  if 
they  are  kept  back  till  the  end  of  the  war,  when  a 
successful  issue  will  probably  bring  with  it  apathy 
on  the  part  of  those  in  whose  hands  rest  the  destinies 
of  the  British  Army. 


THE  NEW  MACHINE  GUN 

Rarely,  if  ever,  in  the  annals  of  the  Ordnance 
Survey  has  the  British  Government  sent  out  a  fully 
equipped  Survey  Section,  for  the  purpose  of  recon- 
naissance duty,  previous  to  the  present  war.  Dur- 
ing the  march  from  Modder  River  to  Bloemfontein, 
202 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

they  have  had  plenty  of  scope  for  displaying  the 
special  training  received,  necessary  for  successful 
sketching,  surveying  and  reconnoitring  an  enemy's 
position. 

At  Paardeberg  a  very  successful  and  complete 
sketch  to  scale  was  made  of  the  Boers'  laager  by 
Major  Jackson,  R.E.,  who,  whilst  exposed  to  a  hot 
lire  every  day  and  within  800  yards  of  the  enemy's 
trenches,  and  where  men  were  faUing  every  min- 
ute, nevertheless  completed  the  whole  sketch  within 
four  days. 

This  part  of  the  warfare,  where  you  walk  well 
within  the  enemy's  firing  line  with  only  a  revolver, 
the  Boers  continually  sniping  and  potting,  no  cover, 
and  no  chance  of  a  ''  kick  or  hit  back,"  makes  you 
feel  as  though  you  would  like  to  charge  into  their 
midst,  get  hand  to  hand,  and  at  least  have  one  shot 
or  hit,  in  return  for  the  compliments  and  salutes 
they  pay  you.  But  no,  you  must  stand  still  in  the 
open,  coolly  go  on  with  the  sketching,  and  not  mind 
the  bullets,  even  if  they  take  a  leg  off  the  plane 
table  or  knock  the  pencil  out  of  your  hand.  The 
only  thing  that  is  to  be  feared  seriously  is  the  rain, 
and  that  may  make  the  ink  run,  spoil  the  sketch, 
and  cause  a  lot  of  trouble  and  annoyance. 

The  Boers  may  "  knock  spots  oflf  you,"  but  the 
sketch  is  the  principal  thing ;  another  R.E.  Surveyor 
may  be  obtained,  but  not  another  plan,  until  prob- 
ably too  late  for  practical  use. 

Presumably  the  burghers  mistake  the  tripod  and 
plane  table  (used  for  the  purpose)  for  a  new  kind  of 

203 


War's  Brighter  Side 

machine  gun,  or  some  other  deadly  weapon,  from 
the  way  in  which  they  bang  away  when  it  is  erected, 
and  it  does,  no  doubt,  surprise  them  when  they  find 
it  does  not  spit  fire  and  lead,  and  probably  they  put 
it  down  as  a  **  Rooinek  "  risking  a  snap-shot  at  close 
quarter,  but  they  are  very  restless  ''  sitters  "  and  re- 
sent the  intrusion  of  Mausers,  although  never  asked 
to  pay  a  proof  in  advance — proof  positive  of  a 
neglected  education. 


ADVICE  TO  AN  OFFICER  ON  GOING  TO 
THE  WARS 

'Twas  well  remarked  by  Mack-Praed, 

In  wise  and  witty  lay, 
"  We*re  known  to  be  extremely  brave ; 

So  take  the  sword  away." 

Aye,  let  the  sword  and  feather  go, 
Bright  belt  and  glitt'ring  braid; 

Assume  a  sad  and  grub-like  hue, 
For  battle  or  for  raid. 

No  more  in  steel  the  warrior  gleams. 

In  scarlet  cuts  a  dash  ; 
The  hero  now  may  scarce  permit 

His  eagle  eye  to  flash. 

For  glint  and  gleam  and  flash  and  flare 

Will  all  afford  a  mark ; 
The  better  plan,  in  modern  days. 

Is  just  "  to  keep  it  dark." 
204 


I  Visit  Miss  Bloemfontein 

We  ask  no  more  that  you  shall  shine ; 

Be  dull  if  you  would  win. 
I  mean,  of  course,  in  outward  show — 

Lucidity  within. 

For  "  slim's  "  the  word  now  most  in  vogue 

(That's  "  sly,"  if  read  aright) ; 
From  head  to  heel  be  dull  and  dim, 
^     Your  brain  alone  be  bright. 

It  is  no  joy  that  you  should  smash 

Your  head  against  a  wall ; 
"  We're  known  to  be  extremely  brave," 

So  pray  be  wise  withal. 

Be  lion-mettled — as  you  were; 

But  not  too  proud  to  scout; 
And  if  the  foe  is  right  in  front. 

Why,  go  a  mile  about. 

Go  forth  in  strength  of  intellect, 

Shining  with  all  your  wit ; 
So  shall  you  baulk  the  wily  foe — 

Unhit,  shall  make  a  hit. 

E.  T. 


205 


CHAPTER   XI 

Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

A  Study  of  Tommy  Atkins,  the  Inscrutable — Our 
Dutch  Compositors  Arraigned 

The  lady  who  signed  herself  ''  Miss  Uit- 
lander  "  was  also  kind  enough  to 'write  for  us  an 
article  on  "  Tommy  in  a  Lady's  Eyes."  It  was 
clever.  She  said  that  Tommy  walked  the 
streets  looking  as  if  he  always  had  walked  them 
— and  that  was  true.  It  is  also  true  that 
Tommy  did  everything  else  in  the  same  way. 
Wherever  you  put  him  or  he  found  himself  he 
uttered  no  comments  or  exclamations,  but  at 
once  adapted  himself  to  the  situation.  During 
the  seven  months  I  was  with  him  I  never  could 
fathom  the  operations  of  his  mind.  Sometimes 
I  suspected  that  he  had  none;  at  other  times  I 
envied  him  the  kind  of  mind  he  had. 

Our  lady  reporter  said  that  Tommy  ''  loves 
to  make  an  impression  on  the  feminine  heart — 
but,  alas!  his  khaki  uniform  does  not  suit  him. 
206 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

Like  country,  like  dress.  We  now  see  ourselves 
as  others  see  us,  af  khaki-coloured  people  in  a 
vast  khaki-coloured  land."  Of  the  officers  she 
said,  "  their  amiabiUty,  patience,  and  high  breed- 
ing are  a  treat  to  come  in  contact  v^ith  in  a  coun- 
try such  as  this,  where  Jack  is  considered  as 
good  as  his  master;  in  his  own  estimation,  a 
very  good  deal  better." 

''  Bloemfontein  is  khaki-mad,"  she  con- 
cluded; "  Tommy  is  everywhere.  The  shops 
overflow  with  him — and  hozv  he  spends  his 
money!  It  will  be  an  object-lesson  to  those 
who,  a  few  short  weeks  ago,  were  sure  that  Eng- 
land was  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy.  The 
streets  abound  with  him.  The  place  is  a  bee- 
hive of  soldiery,  and  never  again  will  be  any 
other,  I  most  fervently  hope  and  trust." 

I  copy  this  bit  of  a  long  article  because  it 
brings  strongly  to  mind  and  in  full  swing  and 
colour  the  daily  scenes  in  the  streets  of  Bloem- 
fontein. Whenever  we  ran  out  of  The  Friend 
office  to  the  hotel  or  the  printing  works  or  the 
Club,  we  saw  the  same  endless  parade  of  sol- 
diers up  and  down  the  pavements,  the  same 
motley  cavalcade  of  mounted  men  in  the  streets. 
At  the  sound  of  drums  we  all  ran  out — for  civ- 
ilisation was  far  away,  and  the  natural  man  was 
welling  up  strong  in  us — to  see  a  regiment 
marching  in,  or  out — or,  too  often,  to  view  a 
15  207 


War's  Brighter  Side 

funeral  procession  leading  a  poor  bundle  of  the 
dust  of  a  hero  strapped  upon  a  gun-carriage. 

In  the  shops  we  found  a  wall  of  soldiers  be- 
fore every  counter.  They  were  in  swarms  like 
flies  in  all  except  the  drinking  places.  There 
they  could  not  go;  poor  fellows,  to  whom  a 
drink  would  have  seemed  so  much  more  than  to 
us,  who  could  have  it  whenever  and  wherever 
we  wanted  it. 

I  will  say  again,  here,  as  I  have  said  else- 
where once  before,  that  though  we  underwent 
more  danger  than  many  of  the  soldiers  (who 
were  not  sent,  as  we  were,  into  every  battle), 
and  though  we  endured  hardships  sufBcient  to 
daunt  many  strong  men,  we  correspondents 
had  this  advantage  over  the  rest — that,  no  mat- 
ter how  light  was  the  marching-kit  ordered  for 
the  troops,  we  were  usually  followed  by  our 
carts,  and  when  these  came  up  with  us,  we  had 
abundance — and  some  luxuries. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  able  to  re- 
plenish the  larder  of  one  regiment  more  than 
once  when,  between  battles,  it  entertained  a 
general  or  the  Commander-in-Chief.  We  in 
Roberts's  and  Methuen's  army,  were  never  criti- 
cised for  living  as  well  as  we  could,  but  there  is 
a  story  current  in  army  and  war  correspondent 
circles  to  the  efifect  that  the  hero  of  Omdurman 
severely  rebuked  certain  correspondents  for 
208 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

living  on  a  scale  which  provoked  the  envy  of 
the  officers,  and  demoralised  them.  One  corre- 
spondent of  the  Httle  mess  that  was  thus  criti- 
cised— a  man  who  drank  very  little  himself — is 
said  to  have  utilised  one  camel  solely  to  carry 
the  champagne  with  which  he  entertained  his 
friends  among  the  officers.  I  do  not  say  what 
I  might  have  done  had  this  story  been  told  me 
earlier,  but,  as  it  was,  I  had  no  camel,  and  the 
champagne  that  kind  friends  sent  me  from  Eng- 
land never  reached  me. 

My  stores  consisted  of  poultry  in  tins,  pud- 
dings, jams  (how  good  those  Cape  jams  are,  by 
the  way;  they  should  have  a  great  sale  in  all 
civilised  parts),  tinned  vegetables,  bully  beef, 
and  bullier  tongue  and  ham,  preserved  fruits, 
biscuits,  figs,  cigarettes,  cigars,  and  a  little  most 
evanescent  whisky. 

But  to  get  back  to  the  streets  of  soldier- 
burdened  Bloemfontein;  how  surely,  as  we 
assembled  in  the  corner  by  the  office,  did  the 
soldiers  recognise  their  poet  and  friend.  He 
looked  at  all  of  them  in  general,  but  all  of  them 
stared  at  him  in  particular.  They  passed  the 
word  from  rank  to  rank,  '^  There's  Rudyard 
Kipling!  "  and  then  marched  on,  leaving  their 
eyes  on  his  face  while  their  bodies  passed  along, 
until  it  looked  as  if  they  must  dislocate  their 
necks  before  they  had  their  fill  of  seeing  him. 
209 


War's  Brighter  Side 

He  was  like  a  comrade  when  he  talked  to 
a  private,  and  talk  to  them  he  did.  Jack  tar, 
Colonial,  regular,  and  Pathan,  he  talked  to  all 
alike. 

"  How  are  you  getting-  on?  Is  your  camp 
all  right?  Near  here?  Where  was  your  last 
fight?  "  So  he  both  introduced  himself  and  set 
them  talking  and  at  ease — all  in  a  breath. 

But,  as  I  have  said,  ''  Tommy  "  is  inscru- 
table. I  stepped  one  day  into  a  German  tobac- 
conist's across  the  street  from,  and  farther 
along  than,  the  Club,  and  found  it  packed  by 
soldiers  who  were  being  served  by  an  insolent 
German  with  a  portrait  of  ex-President  Steyn 
in  his  coat  lapel. 

*'  Take  that  picture  out  of  your  button- 
hole," said  I.  ''  What  do  you  mean  by  wearing 
a  thing  like  that  when  you  are  under  British 
rule,  and  have  been  both  protected  and  gener- 
ously treated?  " 

"  I  vill  vear  vot  I  shoose,"  said  he. 

I  made  a  mental  promise  to  see  that  he  did 
not  wear  that  emblem  much  longer,  and  then 
turning  to  the  soldiers  I  said,  ''  Men,  did  you 
see  what  this  man  is  wearing?  Why  do  you 
spend  your  money  on  a  man  whose  sympathies 
are  with  the  Boers?  Give  his  shop  the  cold 
shoulder,  and  he  will  soon  see  that  he  is  making 
a  mistake." 

2IO 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

The  appeal  was  in  vain.  The  men  instantly 
began  to  look  very  uncomfortable.  They  rolled 
their  eyes  up  to  the  ceiHng  or  pinned  their  gaze 
on  the  floor.  No  one  said  a  word  or  even  shot 
a  glance  of  approval  in  my  direction.  They 
did  not  care.  Tommy  does  not  care— never 
cares — about  anything,  apparently. 

I  tried  to  keep  my  promise.  Search  was 
made  for  that  tobacconist,  but  he  never  served 
behind  his  counter  after  that  visit  of  mine.  He 
saved  the  miUtary  the  trouble  of  sending  him 
to  Capetown. 

Lively  days  were  those  for  rebels  and  irrec- 
'oncilables.  The  men  who  had  most  ardently 
furthered  the  cause  of  the  Bond  and  the  Trans- 
vaal war  party,  and  who  had  the  indecency  to 
loiter  in  the  town,  were  quickly  weeded  out  and 
sent  to  the  Boer  prison  camp  near  Capetown. 
If  we  could  not  always  tell  who  were  our  friends, 
these  mischievous  wretches  were  worse  off,  for, 
ofttimes,  their  old  neighbours,  tired  of  the  war 
and  awake  to  the  folly  of  keeping  it  up,  pointed 
them  out  to  the  military,  and  retailed  their 
nauseous  histories. 

"  I  feel  a  little  like  a  lieutenant  of  Fouche," 
said  one  correspondent  to  me.  "  I  had  pointed 
out  to  me  a  former  editor  of  one  of  the  local 
papers  whose  pen  was  used  with  vitriol  and  who 
did  as  much  as  any  man  to  degrade  and  spoil 

211 


War's  Brighter  Side 

this  little  country.  I  was  told  that  he  is  still 
talking  angrily  and  abusively  of  us,  and  I  was 
indignant.  I  mentioned  the  case  to  a  promi- 
nent military  officer  and  in  three  hours  the  man 
was  a  prisoner  on  his  way  to  Capetown.  I  feel 
as  if  I  was  living  in  Paris  in  the  French  revolu- 
tion— very  creepy  and  uncomfortable.  I  shall 
keep  my  discoveries  of  such  rascals  to  myself 
after  this." 

In  this  number  mine  was  the  leader  entitled, 
''  Do  we  Spare  the  Rod  too  Much?  "  A  friend- 
ly visitor,  whose  signature  ''  L.  D.-J."  unfor- 
tunately fails  to  recall  his  full  name  to  my  mind, 
wrote  a  very  interesting  sketch  called  ''  Towards 
War,"  which  shows  with  fidelity  to  the  truth 
how  the  mere  process  of  going  to  war  prepares 
one  for  the  war  itself.  Mr.  Landon  wrote  the 
first  true  account  most  of  us  saw  or  heard  of  the 
mishap  at  Karree  Siding,  w^here  four  of  our  offi- 
cers were  shot,  on  March  23,  while  riding  over 
the  country  on  a  search  for  forage.  Lieut. 
Lygon,  who  was  one  of  the  killed,  was  an  inti- 
mate and  beloved  friend  of  Mr.  Landon,  who 
mourned  him  deeply  and  most  lovingly  looked 
after  his  burial  and  the  proper  marking  of  his 
grave.  Death  had  come  too  close  to  all  of  us 
far  too  often,  but  never  quite  so  close  to  any 
one  of  us  as  in  this  instance. 

Mr.  Gwynne's  thoughtful  essays  on  the  revo- 
212 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

kitionised  science  of  war  produced  a  first  reply 
in  this  number,  from  an  officer  competent  to  dis- 
cuss the  subject.  General  Sir  Henry  Colvile 
wrote  with  much  good  humour  twitting  us  for 
the  blundering  of  our  compositors,  who  had 
made  a  botch  of  the  double  acrostic  he  had  so 
kindly  sent  us  some  days  before.  The  fact  that 
we  were  as  much  to  blame  as  the  compositors 
he  managed,  with  extremely  clever  wording,  to 
make  us  feel,  though  he  did  not  say  so.  Those 
compositors! — were  ever  men  so  badly  served  as 
we  were  by  them?  They  doubled  our  work, 
and  though  we  corrected  every  error  they  made 
they  often  spoiled  our  efforts  at  the  last  by  fail- 
ing to  carry  out  our  corrections.  They  were  so 
ingenious  as  to  spell  struggle  ''  strxxlg,"  and 
then  to  insist  that  it  should  appear  so  in  The 
Friend.  They  invented  the  new  rank  of 
"  branch  colonel  "  to  take  the  place  of  briga- 
dier-general or  lance-corporal,  I  cannot  remem- 
ber which.  I  used  to  think  they  made  this 
trouble  on  purpose,  for  I  knew  that  some  were 
Dutch  and  all  had  been  with  the  Boers  before 
we  came.  And  when  secret  pro-Boer  circulars 
and  incentives  to  disorder  were  found  to  have 
been  printed  in  the  town,  I  had  a  sneaking 
suspicion  that  I  could  guess  who  were  the 
printers. 

We  cut   the   Gordian   knot   of  one   of  our 
213 


War's  Brighter  Side 

troubles  in  this  number  by  reducing  the  price  of 
The  Friend  to  one  penny  to  men  of  all  ranks 
ahke. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts*  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,   TUESDAY,    MARCH    27,    I900. 

BY  THE  EDITORS 

To  Correspondents. — Please  do  not  write  on  both 
sides  of  your  letter  sheets  when  you  contribute  to 
The  Friend. 

It's  all  right  to  take  a  kopje  on  both  sides,  but 
you  should  not  send  it  in  on  both  sides. 

Some  of  the  Editors  are  sufficiently  profane 
already. 

CONCERNING  ACROSTICS 

BY    MAJOR-GENERAL    SIR    H.    E.    COLVILE 

Sir, — '*  We  don't  hexpect  hart  and  we  don't 
hexpect  hacting,  but  yer  might  jine  yer  flats." 

It  is  perhaps  too  much  to  expect  that  the  gentle- 
man who  sets  up  the  type  of  The  Friend  should 
know  the  usual  structure  of  a  double-acrostic,  or 
that  he  should  trouble  himself  with  such  details  as 
my  punctuation  and  spelling ;  but  he  might  have  let 
my  lines  continue  to  scan  and  retain  some  germ  of 
meaning;  and,  even  if  he  did  not  realise  that  the 
proem  was  intended  for  verse,  he  might  have  let  it 
stand  as  English  prose.  His  statement  that  "  ac- 
214 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

cording  to  the  writer  "  the  answer  gives  "  the  most 
appropriate  cognomen,"  &c.,  is  interesting,  as  any- 
thing must  be  that  falls  from  his  stick.  It  further 
reveals  a  wealth  of  imagination  of  which  his  previ- 
ous efforts  gave  us  no  hint. 

H.  C. 
Writer  of  the  Double  Acrostic 

in  Saturday's  issue. 
Bloemfontein,  24th  March,  1900. 

(Please  don't  shoot  the  Editors,  they  are  doing 
their  best. — Ed.,  Friend.) 


TOWARDS  WAR 

BY    L.    D.-J. 

The  crowded  platform  at  Waterloo,  the  groups  of 
men  in  great-coats  gathered  round  figures  in  ulsters 
with  travelling  rugs  upon  their  arms ;  the  long  train 
with  its  dirty  painted  boards  above  the  carriages 
inscribed  "  Aldershot,"  "  Basingstoke,"  '*  South- 
ampton " ;  the  last  joke,  the  last  catchword,  the  last 
farewell  grip  of  parting  hands ;  the  sudden  remem- 
brance of  need  of  newspaper  or  sandwich ;  the  bustle 
and  hurry  of  railway  officials,  servants,  late  voy- 
agers, or  later  friends,  thronging  the  platform 
from  refreshment-room  to  book-stall:  these  tell 
little  to  the  observer  of  war  and  its  alarms.  Only 
at  either  end  of  the  platform  where  the  great 
doors  of  the  baggage-brakes  yawn  upon  piles  of 
valises,  beneath  whose  white-painted  rank,  name, 
215 


War's  Brighter  Side 

regiment,  the  bold  initials  "  S.A.F.F."  catch  the 
eye,  guarded  by  soldier  servants,  field-service  cap 
on  right  eye,  uniform  hidden  under  collared  great- 
coat; or  on  the  racks  of  the  compartments,  vi^here 
curiously  shaped  tin  cases  cover  the  cocked  hat  or 
the  helmet,  and  where,  showing  through  a  bundle 
of  canes,  golf-clubs,  and  polo  sticks,  is  seen  the 
clumsy  brown  leather  shape  of  a  sword  case,  is  there 
a  hint  of  military  significance,  a  clue  to  the  tension 
of  the  thronged  faces,  taking  a  farewell  under  cir- 
cumstances not  of  the  ordinary. 

The  Saturday  afternoon  in  December,  yellow  and 
dull  under  the  bitter  black  frost  which  has  gripped 
the  heart  of  the  land,  as  the  ill  news  has  gripped  the 
heart  of  the  people,  which  comes  to  round  ofif  a  week 
whose  despatches  have  announced  the  disasters  of 
Stormberg,  Magersfontein,  Tugela,  the  threefold 
defeat  on  hill  and  plain  and  river — is  no  day  for 
cheerful  leave-taking.  Although  every  lip  is  silent 
on  the  subject  of  the  morning's  news,  latest  and 
worst  of  all ;  although  the  spoken  word  is  all  of  a 
brilliant  campaign,  a  stroke  of  luck,  a  speedy  and 
safe  return,  there  looms  before  each  mind  the  com- 
ing list  of  casualties,  the  thought  of  war's  inevitable 
chances,  the  possibility  that  here  and  now  are  some 
who  may  never  be  seen  again  firm-footed  on  a 
metropolitan  causeway,  whose  trick  of  a  smile,  twist 
of  a  moustache,  and'  cock  of  hat  upon  forehead 
must  become  a  slowly  dimming  memory  through 
the  remnants  of  a  life. 

;K  *  ^  *  *  ik  *  :i:  ^ 

216 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

The  fire  blazes  against  the  frosty  draught  in  the 
hall  of  the  Southampton  Hotel.  Baggage  is  piled 
upon  baggage  half-ceiling  high  in  every,  corner. 
Hungry  men  are  hurriedly  moving  along  the  cor- 
ridors towards  the  dining-room,  in  their  travelling 
suits  of  tweed  or  serge.  At  two  or  three  tables 
family  parties  are  dining  together  for  the  last  time ; 
the  women  silent,  quiet-eyed,  smiling  but  momen- 
tarily at  the  sally  of  light-hearted  youth,  a  sigh  ever 
held  in  suspense  behind  kind  lips  and  white  teeth. 
The  writing-room  holds  a  group  of  scrawling  men, 
finishing  final  letters,  re-iterant  of  parting  phrases, 
enforcing  last  injunctions,  expressing  forgotten  be- 
hests. And  at  the  foot  of.  the  stairs  stand  two 
officers  in  uniform,  both  in  peaked  caps,  one  mili- 
tary, one  naval,  with  white  bands  upon  their  sleeves. 
They  are  the  Embarking  Stafif  Officers ;  they  are  the 
first  visible  sign  of  war. 

JK  ♦  *  >i«  *  H«  *  ^  * 

Grey  fog  upon  the  waters,  grey  fog  hanging 
round  the  sheds  upon  the  wharves,  a  grey  transport 
with  red  funnels,  towering  above  the  levels  of  water 
and  quay.  Cranes  rapidly  sling  guns,  waggons, 
cases,  with  creak,  shout  and  thud  over  the  grey  bul- 
warks. Lines  of  uncouth  figures  in  grey  great-coats, 
and  blue  red-banded  sea-caps,  pass  sight-protected 
rifles  from  hand  to  hand  up  the  steep  gangways  and 
along  between  rows  of  boxes  and  baggage  to  the 
armoury.  The  saloon  is  filled  with  lunching  officers, 
their  friends  and  relatives.  The  last  toast  is  lifted  in 
silence  to  the  last  lips ;  and  eyes  looking  over  brim 
217 


War's  Brighter  Side 

of  wine-glass  are  eloquent  of  more  than  speech  is 
master  of.  The  harsh  clang  of  the  warning  bell, 
speaking  full-voiced  the  words  x>f  Destiny,  transfers 
to  the  grey  quay  groups  of  dispirited,  saddened 
women,  and  of  men  stern-eyed  and  holding  be- 
tween their  teeth  and  under  the  cover  of  moustache 
or  beard,  minute  bleeding  portions  of  their  inner  lips. 

On  the  promenade  deck,  gay  in  a  scarlet  jumper, 
over-weighted  a  little  by  his  large  khaki-covered 
helmet,  leans  upon  a  stanchion  a  very  junior  subal- 
tern. His  boyish,  hairless  face  is  blue  with  the  cold 
frost-fog,  he  is  biting  very  rapidly  and  nervously 
at  the  end  of  a  cigar  that  went  out  ere  half  its  length 
was  smoked.  Looking  up  at  him  from  the  wharf 
below,  a  group  isolated  from  other  groups  holds  a 
tall  lady  clad  in  furs,  heavily  veiled,  her  handkerchief 
peeping  from  her  muff,  and  one  arm  resting  heavily 
upon  that  of  a  grey-haired  military  man,  while  son 
and  daughter,  or  nephew  and  niece,  perhaps  gather 
protectingly  to  her  side. 

There  is  still  delay.  The  gangways  are  removed, 
but  still  the  hawsers  hold.  The  cold  compels  the 
watchers  on  the  wharf  to  take  a  few  hurried,  swiftly- 
turned  paces  up  and  down  its  length.  The  voyagers 
stamp  upon  the  deck,  or  beat  a  furtive  arm  across  a 
swelling  chest.  But  they  do  not  turn  even  for  a 
second  from  contemplation  of  that  shore  they  may 
never  see  again.  .  .  .  •  A  whistle  blows,  there  is  the 
sound  of  a  cable  slipping  through  the  water,  the  lady 
in  the  furs  comes  hastily  forward,  puts  up  her  veil  a 
little  way  and  tries  to  shout.    The  youthful  subaltern 

2i8 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

leans  out  perilously  over  the  side.  The  words  come 
faintly  up.  .  .  .  '*  Good-bye !  Rex.  .  .  .  God  bless 
you !  .  .  .  I  know  I  shall  see  you  again.  .  .  ."  The 
lady  beats  her  hand  desperately  upon  her  muff, 
and  dabs  her  handkerchief  unknowingly  against  her 
veil.  .  .  . 

The  band  aft  is  playing  "  Auld  Lang  Syne,"  a 
stretch  of  greenish  water  spreads  between  ship  and 
shore,  a  few  half-hearted  cheers  are  rising  through 
the  grey  fog,  and  the  sound  of  a  melancholy  chapel 
bell  in  the  distant  town  tells  of  a  half-forgotten  Sab- 
bath. .  .  .  The  subaltern's  eyes  no  longer  see  things 
clearly,  and  the  handkerchief  he  waves  as  answer 
to  those  fluttering  along  the  grey  length  of  the 
quay  is  heavy  and  damp.  ... 

So  we  come  a  little  closer  to  the  realities  of  war. 


Lights  flicker  and  gleam  in  the  dark  shade  of  the 
poplar  trees  fringing  the  platform.  There  is  a  hush 
over  those  who  hold  space  upon  the  gravel  before 
the  station-master's  office.  In  the  darkness  it  is 
difficult  to  see  who  one's  neighbour  may  chance  to 
be.  But  voices  betray  the  presence  of  the  P.M.O. 
and  half  a  dozen  officers  from  the  Field  Hospital 
behind  the  church.  At  the  other  end  of  the  plat- 
form lie  the  sinister  stretchers  of  a  bearer  company 
laid  out  in  an  interminable  row.  Up  to  the  line 
comes  the  low  melancholy  whistle  of  the  armoured 
train.  .  .  . 

All  day  from  far  beyond  the  ring  of  hills  that 
cages  the  camp  upon  the  plain  has  come  the  dull 
219 


War's  Brighter  Side 

booming  of  heavy  guns.  There  has  been  a  battle 
and  there  have  been  losses :  this  we  know.  The  ap- 
proaching train  is  bringing  in  the  wounded  from  the 
scene  of  action,  but  who  they  may  be  who  suffer  we 
have  yet  to  learn.  As  the  light  comes  round  the 
bend  above  the  water-tank,  there  is  a  stir  arnong  the 
waiting  groups.  A  command  rings  out,  and  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  shuffle  of  feet  as  the  bearer  company 
stands  to  its  stretchers.  The  train  glides  slowly, 
looming  up  in  its  solid  armoured  squareness  between 
the  goods  sheds  and  the  rolling-stock  upon  the  sid- 
ings. It  draws  into  the  little  colonial  wayside  station 
with  a  flash  of  its  headlight  that  renders  the  platform 
darker  than  ever.  The  form  of  its  commander  drops 
from  the  rear  carriage,  with  its  maxim-portals,  and 
its  loop-holes  for  rifles,  all  sliding  by  dim  and  grey 
and  sinister.  In  a  low  voice  he  tells  the  P.M.O.  *'  six 
killed,  fourteen  wounded,  I  have  brought  down 
eight."  "  Any  officers  ?  "  questions  some  one  in  the 
background.  "  Jones  is  killed,  and  Spindrift  miss- 
ing," comes  the  response,  "  and  young  Michael  is 
here,  shot  in  five  places."  .  .  . 

Lanterns  swing  back  and  forth,  the  doctors  get 
into  the  carriage,  there  is  a  low,  subdued  murmur  of 
voices  from  within ;  a  breath  of  some  antiseptic 
comes  from  the  interior ;  a  groan  is  audible.  Then 
the  bearer  company  marches  slowly  along  the  edge 
of  the  platform.  Four  men  enter  with  their 
stretcher,  and  after  a  painful  lapse  of  time,  the  lan- 
terns swing  again,  the  group  stands  back  a  little, 
and    slowly,    carefully,    feet    foremost,    the    first 

220 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

wounded  man  is  brought  out,  and  lowered  upon 
his  stretcher  to  the  ground.  While  his  blankets  are 
being  arranged  there  is  time  to  see  him  indistinctly : 
a  bandage  round  his  head  with  a  dark,  tell-tale  patch 
soaking  through  it,  a  pale  face  with  closed  eyes  and 
a  pale  moustache  disarranged  across  his  mouth. 
Last  night  we  dined  and  drank  together.  Now,  as 
he  is  borne  off  out  of  hearing,  the  medical  officers 
whisper,  "  poor  chap,  there  is  no  hope  for  him ;  he 
cannot  last  the  night." 

Gradually  the  armoured  train  disgorges  its  un- 
happy load,  the  stretchers  receive  their  burdens,  the 
marshalled  procession  goes  slowly  over  the  line 
towards  the  hospital,  the  medical  officers  in  close 
attendance,  and  the  engine  pushes  and  pulls  its 
bullet-proof  trucks  back  through  the  night  to  fetch 
another  cargo. 

War  and  its  horrors  are  with  us  now,  and  are 
scarcely  so  terrible  after  all.  Our  gradual  approach 
has  softened  them  or  possibly  hardened  us — who 
shall  say  which  ? 

KARREE  SIDING 

BY     PERCIVAL     LANDON 

There  has  been  so  much  misrepresentation  of  the 
facts  connected  with  the  unfortunate  incident  at 
Karree  Siding  on  the  23rd  that  the  following  brief 
description  of  what  actually  occurred  may  be  of 
interest. 

A  military  camp  had  been  formed  at  the  Glen — 

221 


War's  Brighter  Side 

the  point  at  which  the  railway  crosses  the  Modder 
River,  thirteen  miles  north  of  Bloemfontein — on  the 
previous  day,  and  Colonel  Eyre  Crabbe,  of  the 
Grenadier  Guards,  had  been  appointed  commandant, 
with  his  adjutant,  Lieutenant  Edward  Lygon,  as 
his  staff  officer. 

Forage  was  scarce,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
collect  a  amall  amount  from  the  neighbouring  farms. 
Colonel  Crabbe,  accompanied  by  Colonel  Codring- 
ton  of  the  Coldstream  Guards,  Lieutenant  Lygon, 
Captain  Trotter,  and  one  orderly,  set  out  after  lunch- 
eon on  Friday  for  this  purpose,  and,  moving  out 
in  a  northerly  direction,  visited  three  farms,  and 
then,  finding  themselves  close  to  the  railway  office 
at  Karree  Siding,  entered  the  telegraph  room  at  that 
place  and  found  that  the  instruments  had  been 
removed. 

On  riding  out  from  the  station  they  saw  on  a 
ridge  to  the  north  four  mounted  Boers  against  the 
sky-line,  and  Colonel  Crabbe,  calling  out  "  Come 
on,  let  us  round  them  up,"  set  out  at  once  in  their 
direction,  followed  by  Colonel  Codrington  and  the 
others.  A  slight  protest  was  made  against  the  dan- 
ger of  the  attempt. 

The  Boers  had  ridden  away  to  the  west,  but  were 
still  in  sight,  and  they  were  seen  attempting  to  double 
back  over  a  slight  rise  in  the  ground  strewn  with 
boulders  that  scarcely  deserves  the  name  of  a  kopje. 

Believing  that  the  enemy  had  ridden  over  and 
away,  the  small  party  moved  on  and  divided  at  the 
base  of  this  fold.  Captain  Trotter  and  Lieutenant 

222 


Our  Very  Mixed  Public 

Lygon  moving  off  to  the  right,  the  two  Colonels  and 
the  orderly  keeping  to  the  left. 

The  Boers,  however,  leaving  their  horses  at  the 
back  of  the  rise,  took  up  positions  behind  the  rocks, 
and  opened  a  well-aimed  and  constant  fire  upon  our 
men.  Colonel  Crabbe,  whose  horse  had  fallen  at 
the  first  shot,  was  struck  through  the  forearm  and 
thigh.  Colonel  Codrington  received  a  bullet  as  he 
lay  on  the  ground  attempting  to  return  the  fire,  and 
the  orderly  was  wounded  in  the  ankle.  Meanwhile 
firing  on  the  other  flank  continued  for  two  or  three 
minutes,  until  Lieutenant  Lygon,  who  had  dis- 
mounted and  was  running  forward  to  gain  the  cover 
of  an  anthill,  was  shot  through  the  heart.  Death 
was  instantaneous,  even  Captain  Trotter  being  un- 
aware of  it  until  he  turned  round,  receiving  at  the 
same  moment  an  expanding  bullet  through  the 
elbow. 

Thus  the  whole  of  the  small  force  was  now  either 
dead  or  wounded,  and  Colonel  Crabbe  surrendered. 
The  Boers  instantly  came  down  into  the  open,  and, 
expressing  their  regret,  did  all  they  could  to  dress 
the  wounds,  Captain  Trotter  undoubtedly  owing  his 
life  to  the  tourniquet  applied  to  his  arm. 

The  wounded  men  were  afterwards  carried  by  the 
Boers  with  great  care  to  Mr.  Maas'  farm,  and  the 
news  was  sent  back  to  the  Glen  by  a  Kaffir. 

Lieutenant  Lygon's  body  was  borne  back  on  the 
following  morning,  and  was  buried  near  the  small 
white  kraal  a  hundred  yards  to  the  east  of  the  rail- 
way bridge.    The  funeral,  which  took  place  at  sun- 

i6  223 


War's  Brighter  Side 

set  on  Saturday,  was  most  impressive,  the  entire 
battalion  attending  the  voluntary  parade  and  lining 
the  path  between  the  camp  and  the  grave. 

Little  comment  is  needed.  Clearly  the  virtue  that 
runs  to  a  fault  has  here  been  to  blame.  The  same 
unquestioning  pluck  that  impels  an  officer  in  leading 
his  men  on  the  field  of  battle  prompted  this  careless 
enterprise,  with  the  miserable  result  we  have  re- 
corded. We  have  lost — and  the  loss  is  the  loss  of 
the  whole  force — one  of  the  best  and  most  popular 
of  our  younger  officers,  and  of  the  other  casualties 
one  at  least  may  prove  more  serious  than  was  antici- 
pated, but  at  least  it  is  a  compensation  to  remember 
that,  however  unfortunate  the  issue,  the  quiet  pluck 
and  discipline  of  the  army  have  been  once  more 
tried  and  not  found  wanting. 


DON'T 

Advice  to  Looters 

BY     H.     A.     GWYNNE 

Don't  call  on  the  Provost  Marshal  with  a  couple 
of  live  chickens  on  your  saddle  bow. 

Don't  attempt  to  carry  ofif  a  grand  piano  on  an 
ammunition  waggon ;  it  might  be  noticed. 

Don't  cook   sheep's   kidneys    ostentatiously   in 
camp  ;  you  may  be  asked  where  you  found  the  sheep. 

Don't  load  your  horse  with  flannel  petticoats 
when  carrying  a  message  to  a  general ;  flannel  petti- 
coats are  not  a  part  of  military  equipment. 
224 


Our  Very  Mixed   Public 

Don't  swagger  about  camp  with  an  air  of  re- 
pletion when  the  force  is  subsisting  on  quarter 
rations. 

Don't  try  to  stuff  a  pillow  into  your  helmet;  it 
only  spoils  your  appearance  and  gives  the  show 
away. 

Don't  "  pick  up  "  anything  with  the  broad  ar- 
row on  it. 

Don't  steal  a  horse  from  the  Club  railings  when 
its  owner  is  having  a  whisky  and  soda;  it  is  dis- 
tinctly dangerous. 

Don't  "  steal  "  a  horse  at  all,  but  let  it  *'  wander 
into  your  lines." 

Don't  drive  a  flock  of  sheep  across  the  pond  of 
the  Headquarter  Staff;  they  might  delay  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief and  make  him  angry. 

Don't  wear  a  bunch  of  false  hair  in  your  hat ;  it 
was  never  served  out  to  you. 

Don't  carry  ladies'  silk  stockings  in  your  wallets ; 
they  won't  fit  you. 

Don't  shout  out  in  camp,  "  Who's  stolen  my 
silk  umbrella  ?  "  People  might  ask  you  where  you 
got  it  from. 

Don't  avoid  ostentatiously  the  Provost  Marshal 
as  he  rides  along,  greet  him  kindly  and  openly  and 
perhaps  he  will  not  suspect  you. 


SMALL  AMMUNITION 

At  Colesberg,  in  one  of  the  numerous  cavalry 
fights,  an  old  Boer  was  held  at  mercy  by  a  lancer 
225 


War's  Brighter  Side 

who  had  his  lance  ready  to  strike.  "  Moe  nie !  Moe 
nie !  "  cried  the  old  man,  which,  being  translated, 
means  "  Don't,  don't !  "  The  lancer,  however,  didn't 
understand  Dutch,  and  replied,  "  I  don't  want  your 
money,  I  want  your  life,"  but  the  renewed  appeal  was 
too  piteous,  and  the  old  man  was  taken  prisoner* 


226 


CHAPTER    XII 

"  Vive   la    Compagnie  " 

Four  Correspondents  Dine  the  General,  the  Gov- 
ernor, and  Rudyard  Kipling,  and  Produce  The 
Friend  as  well 

"  Alles  zal  recht  komen  "  were  the  words 
of  the  late  President  Brand,  true  friend  of  the 
English,  which  were  graven  on  the  pedestal  of 
his  statue  before  the  doors  of  the  Residency. 
We  repeated  them  in  new  ''  tabs  "  beside  the 
heading  of  our  paper  on  March  28th,  with  an 
amended  English  translation  facing  them: 
"All  has  come  right." 

"  All  shall  come  right,"  we  said,  in  our  edi- 
torial, "  was  the  motto  of  the  late  Orange  Free 
State.  What  a  prophet  was  he  who  conceived 
it,  and  how  quickly  has  come  the  fruition  of  his 
prophecy!     All  has  come  right." 

We  published  an  appreciative  editorial  upon 
Sir  Alfred  Milner,  who  had  come  on  the  pre- 
vious day  upon  a  visit  to  Lord  Roberts.  It  was 
527 


War's  Brighter  Side 

written  by  Mr.  Landon.  Mr.  Kipling  contrib- 
uted more  "  Kopje-Book  Maxims,"  and  bore  a 
heavy  hand  in  the  production  of  an  amusing  col- 
umn, entitled,  "  The  Military  Letter  Writer." 

This  was  the  way  that  column  came  into 
being.  Mr.  Landon,  Mr.  Kipling,  and  I  were  in 
the  poet's  bedroom  when  Mr.  Landon  produced 
a  model  letter-writer  which  he  had  found  some- 
where. I  take  great  credit  for  the  phrase 
^'  found  somewhere  "  ;  it  might,  with  any  other 
man  than  Mr.  Landon,  be  so  full  and  rich  in 
meaning.  The  book  professed  to  be  a  sober 
guide  to  the  young  and  the  ignorant  in  the 
paths  of  epistolary  literature;  therefore  it  was 
bound  to  be  supremely  funny.  We  screamed 
over  what  Landon  read  to  us  out  of  it. 

Said  Mr.  Kipling:  "  Let's  write  some  model 
military  letters,"  and,  as  was  his  wont,  he  seized 
a  pencil  and  paper  and  began  to  write  No.  i, 
reading  as  he  wrote.  He  urged  us  both  to  con- 
tribute, and  Mr.  Landon  tried  with  much  good 
intent,  while  I  wished  to  do  so,  but  could  not 
begin  to  keep  pace  with  the  poet.  Instant  col- 
laboration is  almost  always  impossible,  espe- 
cially where  the  inspiration  comes  to  one  man 
who  is  seized  by  it,  and  begins  to  give  it  expres- 
sion before  his  companions  can  match  their 
minds  with  his.  Therefore  Mr.  Kipling  went 
on  and  on,  and  Mr.  Landon  took  the  block  and 
228 


''  Vive  la  Compagnie  " 

pencil  and  wrote  as  Mr.  Kipling  talked.  Thus 
were  produced  letter  No.  i  and  the  italicised  in- 
troduction to  No.  2;  the  rest  Mr.  Landon  ar- 
ranged and  edited  out  of  his  book. 

The  column  was  pieced  out  at  the  end  with 
No.  3  of  Mr.  KipHng's  "  Fables  for  the  Staff," 
which  was,  therefore,  hidden  in  a  bottom  cor- 
ner of  the  page — a  stroke  of  genius  on  the  part 
of  those  whom  we  anathematised  collectively  in 
the  singular  number  as  "  The  Dutch  Com- 
positor." 

Mr.  Buxton  had  been  called  away  to  Cape- 
town just  after  Mr.  Kipling's  arrival,  and  my 
associates,  hag-ridden  by  the  confusion  and  an- 
noyances consequent  upon  the  lack  of  a  prac- 
tised head  to  the  little  institution,  had  thrust 
upon  me  the  honour  and  hard  work  of  what 
may  be  called  the  managing  editor's  place. 
Thenceforth  it  was  my  duty  to  deal  with  the 
gnomes  in  the  dust  hall,  the  retiring  and 
reticent  cashier  in  another  building,  and  the 
inmates  of  the  Home  for  Boer  Compositors, 
otherwise  known  as  the  ofifice  of  the  late  unla- 
mented  Express.  When  I  saw  the  genius  of  the 
Master  thrust  to  the  bottom  corner  of  the 
paper,  or  made  grotesque  by  mis-spelling  and 
exhibitions  of  "  pie,"  I  felt  that  I  alone  was  to 
blame,  and  hid  myself  and  vowed  to  produce 
better  results  if  I  had  to  set  up  the  type  myself. 
229 


War's  Brighter  Side 

From  an  able  major  of  Engineers  we  re- 
ceived for  this  number  a  confident  and  well- 
studied  reply  to  Mr.  Gwynne's  articles  on  the 
effects  of  the  war  upon  military  science. 

This  was  the  day  upon  which  Mr.  Landon, 
Mr.  Gwynne,  Mr.  James  Barnes,  and  myself 
were  to  entertain  at  dinner  Sir  Alfred  Milner, 
Lord  Roberts,  and  Rudyard  Kipling.  The 
menus  had  been  printed  under  the  eye  of  Mr. 
Landon,  and  were  very  distinguished  examples 
of  plain  typography.  As  twenty-four  were  to 
be  used,  we  gave  twelve  each  to  Mr.  W.  B. 
Wollen,  RJ.,  and  to  Mr.  Lester  Ralph,  war  art- 
ists with  the  army,  requesting  these  able  friends 
to  do  their  best  to  produce  on  each  guest's  menu 
a  picture  illustrative  of  some  exploit  or  leading 
characteristic  of  the  recipient.  A  very  notable 
series  of  drawings  resulted — so  notable  that  the 
Field-Marshal,  whose  own  card  showed  him  in 
the  act  of  receiving  the  Keys  of  Bloemfontein, 
asked  to  see  them  all.  When  toward  the  end 
of  the  repast,  each  man  wrote  his  name  on  every 
menu,  you  may  be  certain  those  bits  of  paste- 
board bearing  the  simple  words,  "  The  Dinner 
of  the  28th  of  March,  Bloemfontein,  1900," 
leaped  high  in  value,  and  in  the  jealous  pride  of 
every  man  who  had  one. 

That  was  a  dinner!  An  affair  as  unique  and 
230 


€^t  ©inner 

of  <pe  2Si^  of  (niatcp 

1900 

<E<  (^foemfon^eim 


ist  page  of  Menu. 


8L0EMF0NTC«f* 


2d  page  of  Menu. 


(me(n(u. 


(goifeb  §aPmon. 


§vica99U  of  CJicften. 


(Jloaef  iSirfottt  of  (geef. 


(potAtoee* 


(gfanc  QUan^e. 


Jinnee  a  €$eifaf. 
^Seeee.  €o(fee. 

3d  page  of  Menu. 


M 


(^ 


^1 


.rl(yi^ 


..cs*^ 


4th  page  of  Menu. 


"  Vive  la  Compagnie  " 

as  singular  an  episode  of  war  as — as,  let  us  say, 
The  Friend  itself.  Beside  the  great  General, 
the  High  Commissioner,  and  the  Poet  of  the 
Empire,  we  had  with  us  General  Pretyman, 
Military  Governor  of  the  town;  General  For- 
estier-Walker,  the  courtly  commander  of  the 
Lines  of  Communication;  the  gallant,  debonair 
Pole-Carew;  the  redoubtable  flashing-eyed 
Hector  Macdonald;  the  poHshed  Sir  Henry 
Colvile;  Colonel  Otter,  the  leader  of  the  men 
with  the  maple-leaf;  Lord  Stanley,  diplomat  and 
censor;  Lord  Kerry;  Colonel  Girourad,  binder 
of  new  Empire-fractions  with  threads  of  steel; 
Colonel  Hanbury  Williams,  the  High  Commis- 
sioner's right  hand;  Colonel  Neville  Chamber- 
lain, veteran  at  Empire  building — and  then  our 
comrade-historians  of  the  pen  and  pencil,  W.  B. 
Wollen,  R.L,  Lester  Ralph,  H.  F.  P.  Battersby, 
A.  B.  Paterson,  H.  C.  Shelley,  and  W.  Blelock. 
We  had  invited  Lord  Kitchener,  but  he  was 
away  at  Prieska. 

We  dined  at  the  railway  station,  because  it 
had  the  largest  room  and  the  best  cook  in  the 
new  colony. 

I  hear  the  band  outside.  I  see  a  carriage  roll 
up,  and  Sir  Alfred  Milner  springs  out,  spare- 
framed  and  visaged  like  an  eagle.  The  Field- 
Marshal  follows  him,  precise  in  movement,  gen- 
tle of  mien  but  erect  and  firm  as  steel,  with  long 
231 


War's  Brighter  Side 

usage  of  command  resting  as  light  and  firm 
upon  him  as  if  he  was  born  with  it.  All  the 
others  are  in  the  room,  under  the  flaming  flag 
and  the  huge  paper  roses.  We  dine — better 
than  at  the  Residency — upon  several  courses 
and  with  good  wine  a-plenty. 

I  see  my  handsome  and  gifted  colleague, 
Mr.  Landon,  rise  to  toast  the  High  Commis- 
sioner. What's  this  we  hear?  He  is  welcom- 
ing the  Viceroy  as  a  brother  in  journalism,  a 
newspaper  man  like  ourselves.  Up  rises  the 
man  who  lives  in  the  heart  of  care  and  the 
furnace  of  dissension — pale,  grave,  concentrated, 
like  one  who  thinks  of  but  one  thing  and  has 
but  one  thing  to  do — and  that  a  thing  gigantic. 
He  replies  that  it  is  true  that  he  was  once  a 
writer  like  ourselves;  that  he  enjoyed  those 
days;  that  he  made  delightful  friends  and  spent 
glad  hours  in  them;  that  he  has  had  much  to  do 
with  the  gentlemen  of  the  Press  in  Capetown, 
and  that  his  relations  with  all  have  been  without 
a  flaw.  After  that  he  speaks  but  little  of  the 
heart  of  care  where  his  official  bed  is  laid,  or  of 
the  furnace  blasts  of  treason  and  of  discord 
round  his  chair  at  the  Cape,  but,  with  unas- 
sumed  modesty,  calls  our  attention  to  the  mili- 
tary magician  across  the  table  and  to  what  he 
has  done. 

It  is  Mr.  Gwynne  who  rises  next — the  best- 
232 


ii 


Vive  la  Compagnie  " 


equipped  war  correspondent  with  the  British 
forces,  both  as  a  campaigner  and  a  critic  of  war, 
and  high  among  the  best  as  a  writer.  It  is  fit- 
ting that  he  should  introduce  the  Field-Mar- 
shal, for  he  is  liked  and  trusted  by  his  distin- 
guished guest,  who  has  discovered,  I  fancy,  that 
under  the  correspondent's  khaki  beats  the  heart 
of  the  soldier. 

Lord  Roberts  replied  that  he  was  very  proud 
to  be  the  guest  of  the  war  correspondents.  He 
liked  to  have  them  with  him,  and  he  was  glad 
when  they  criticised  whatever  was  amiss,  for  he 
profited  by  reading  what  they  said.  Turning  to 
us,  the  Field-Marshal  remarked,  "  You  share 
all  our  hardships  and  exposure.  All  the  troops 
do  not  engage  in  every  battle,  but  you  go  to 
all,  so  that  you  experience  even  more  danger 
than  most  of  us.     May  I  call  you  '  comrades  '?  " 

I  remember  that  he  spoke  earnestly  of  the 
work  Sir  Alfred  Milner  was  doing,  and  cred- 
ited that  statesman  with  the  most  difficult  task 
of  any  man  who  served  the  Empire.  One  other 
bit  of  his  address  I  recall — a  mere  phrase,  but  a 
remarkable  one:  ''The  gentlemen  I  command 
— my  gentlemanly  army." 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  introduce  Rud- 

yard  Kipling — a  delicate  as  well  as  a  proud  task, 

because   I   knew  that   fulsome   praise,   or  even 

the  most  honest  appreciation,  would  make  him 

233 


War's  Brighter  Side 

uncomfortable.  But  what  was  there  to  say  that 
every  one  did  not  know?  He  replied  by  giving 
us  for  a  toast  an  absentee  who  had  done  a  grand 
work  in  bringing  two  new  colonies  into  the  Em- 
pire— one  Stephanus  Johannes  Paulus  Kruger. 
After  the  great  guests  went  home  a  dozen  or 
fifteen  of  us  remained  and  enjoyed  an  im- 
promptu little  sing-song,  when  this  to  me 
touching  and  singular  incident  occurred.  Gen- 
eral Pole-Carew  came  to  me  and  said,  "  Your 
son  Lester  should  go  home  and  go  to  bed.  He 
is  in  a  high  fever.  I  know  what  it  means,  for  I 
have  had  it  six  times.  Look  after  him  well." 
My  son  was  then  in  the  thirteenth  day  of  an 
attack  of  enteric,  about  which  he  had  said  not  a 
word  to  any  one.  In  that  condition  he  had 
drawn  the  pictures  on  the  mentis  of  Lord  Rob- 
erts, General  Pole-Carew,  General  French  (who 
could  not  come),  Lord  Stanley,  General  Colvile, 
Colonel  Otter,  Mr.  Kipling,  and  others.  Les- 
ter, on  hearing  what  the  General  had  said,  de- 
clared it  was  no  news  to  him  and,  after  thanking 
the  General,  went  home  and  to  bed.  There, 
until  we  could  get  him  to  a  hospital,  Mr.  Kip- 
ling nursed  him  with  consummate  skill  and  the 
gentleness  of  a  woman;  interesting  and,  to  me, 
precious  memories  of  a  world  in  which  some  of 
us  find  too  few  of  such  suggestions  of  the  better 
world  to  come. 

234 


"  Vive  la  Compagnie  " 

In  this  "  Free  State  Hospital,"  with  the 
ministrations  of  the  matron,  Miss  Young,  and 
her  devoted  lady  nurses,  the  same  strong  es- 
sence of  unselfishness  made  the  siege  of  sickness 
a  period  of  pleasure.  Generals,  colonels,  corre- 
spondents and  all  of  the  salt  of  the  army  went 
there  often  to  cheer  the  patients — one  of  whom 
was  Mr.  Oppenheim  of  the  Daily  News. 

THE    FRIEND. 

(^Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts'  Forces) 

.  BLOEMFONTEIN,  V       Price 

*        J  WEDNESDAY,   MARCH   28,    1900.      LOne  Penny. 

GOVERNMENT  NOTICE 

Notice  is  hereby  given  that,  communication  with 
the  Cape  Colony  having  been  restored,  the  Laws  and 
Regulations  of  the  Customs  Convention  have  been 
put  into  force  by  virtue  of  the  proclamation  of  Field- 
Marshal  Lord  Roberts,  dated  the  20th  instant,  and 
that  from  and  after  this  date  Government  Notice, 
No.  106,  published  in  the  "  Gouvernements  Cou- 
rant "  of  the  27th  October,  1899,  by  which  the  Cus- 
toms dues  on  provisions  and  merchandise  were  tem- 
porarily suspended  will  be  considered  null  and  void, 
in  so  far  as  those  portions  of  the  State  now  occupied 
by  Her  Majesty's  troops  are  concerned. 
By  order 
J.  H.  Meiring,  Collector  of  Customs. 
Customs'  House,  Bloemfontein,  24th  March,  1900. 
235 


War's  Brighter  Side 


PROCLAMATION 

Whereas  it  is  necessary  that  all  State  and  pri- 
vate property  in  the  South  African  Republic  and  the 
Orange  Free  State  shall  be  protected  from  wanton 
destruction  and  damage, 

Now   THEREFORE : 

I,  Frederick  Sleigh  Baron  Roberts  of 
Khandahar,  K.P.,  G.CB.,  G.C.S.L,  G.C.I.E.,  V.C, 
Field  Marshal,  Commanding-in-Chief  the  British 
Forces  in  South  Africa,  do  hereby  give  notice  that 
all  persons  who,  within  the  territories  of  the  South 
African  Republic  or  the  Orange  Free  State  shall 
authorise  or  be  guilty  of  the  wanton  destruction  or 
damage  or  the  counselling,  aiding,  or  assisting  in  the 
wanton  destruction  or  damage  of  public  or  private 
property  (such  destruction  or  damage  not  being 
justified  by  the  usages  and  customs  of  civilised  war- 
fare), will  be  held  responsible  in  their  persons  and 
property  for  all  such  wanton  destruction  and 
damage. 

Given  under  my  hand  at  Bloemfontein,  this 
Twenty-sixth  day  of  March,  1900. 

god  save  the  queen. 
Roberts, 

Field  Marshal, 
Commanding-in-Chief  Her  Majesty's  Forces  in 
South  Africa. 


236 


''  Vive  la  Compagnie  " 

SIR  ALFRED  MILNER 

BY    PERCIVAL   LANDON 

The  High  Commissioner  of  South  Africa  left 
Bloemfontein  after  the  mercifully  abortive  confer- 
ence on  June  6th  of  last  year.  Yesterday  he  re- 
entered the  town.  The  interval  has  been  for  some 
a  time  of  hard  fighting,  for  all  a  time  of  anxiety,  and 
amid  the  enthusiasm  of  his  welcome  to  the  capital, 
his  strong  confidence  during  the  darker  days,  his  un- 
swerving fidelity  to  the  high  ideal  of  his  Imperial 
work,  must  be  in  the  minds  of  all. 

His  entry  into  Bloemfontein,  the  capital  of  one  of 
the  two  colonies  destined  to  fall  into  line  with  the 
progress  of  United  South  Africa,  is  an  occasion  that 
will  be  recognised  by  the  historian  of  this  war  as 
closing  one  "  swelling  act  of  the  Imperial  theme." 

Half — perhaps  more  than  half — of  Lord  Roberts* 
work  has  been  done ;  the  greater  part  of  Sir  Alfred 
Milner's  task  lies  still  before  him.  In  welcoming 
him  within  its  walls  Bloemfontein  does  not  forget 
that  long  after  the  transports  have  sailed  with  the 
last  of  the  troops  of  the  expedition,  the  High  Com- 
missioner will  still  be  confronted  with  a  gigantic 
work,  requiring  alike  foresight,  tact,  and  strength  of 
will.  And  Bloemfontein,  like  the  rest  of  the  Empire, 
is  well  content  to  leave  in  the  hands  of  Sir  Alfred 
Milner  the  solution  of  the  problem  upon  the  right 
interpretation  of  which  the  fortunes  of  this  enormous 
federation  must  depend. 


237 


War's  Brighter  Side 


"  DRIVING  THE  OX  " 

Sing  they  who  will  of  the  Yeomen  Imperial, 

Gillies,  Scouts,  ''  Tigers,"  and  bold  C.I.V. ; 
Others  may  hold  to  more  usual  material, 
Horse,  Foot,  and  Rifles,  and  Artillerie. 
But  there's  a  corps  with  its  name  writ  in  History — 
Bold  they  as  lions  and  steadfast  as  rocks — 
Gaily  we'll  troll  our  song. 
Slow  as  we  stroll  along — 
Trickle  and  roll  along — 
Driving  the  Ox ! 

But  when  the  war-cloud  frowns  thicker  and  lowereth, 

When  the  quick-moving  battalions  are  met; 
Not  where  the  soft-hissing  bullet  most  showereth, 

Not  in  the  forefront  our  places  are  set. 
Still  drive  we  on,  though  a  day's  march  in  rear  we  be. 
O'er  veldt  and  vlei,  with  the  mud  to  our  hocks — 
Still  will  we  push  along. 
Nor  sadly  hush  our  song. 
Though  we  don't  rush  along. 
Driving  the  Ox ! 

Fill,  then,  a  cup  to  the  Beeves  of  Her  Majesty, 
Long  in  the  rear  may  their  colours  be  seen ! 
Heavy  their  loads,  but. their  hearts  light  as  anything. 

Doing  strong  work  for  their  country  and  Queen. 
What  though  they  jeer  who   sweep  by  with   the 
mounted  troops  ? 
Treat  we  as  nought  all  their  jibes  and  their  mocks. 
238 


"  Vive  la  Compagnie  " 

Though  ne'er  a  fight  we'll  see, 
Cheerful  and  bright  we'll  be, 
We're  a  grand  sight  to  see, 
Driving  the  Ox ! 

"Old  Man." 


FABLES    FOR   THE    STAFF ^ 

The  Persuasive  Pom-pom 

by  rudyard  kipling 

III 

A  Field-Artillerist  passing  a  newly-imported 
Pom-pom  overwhelmed  it  with  Contumely,  saying, 
"  What  has  a  Gunner  to  do  with  an  Unqualified 
Sewing-machine  ?  " 

To  this  the  virtuous  Mechanism  returned  no 
answer,  but  communicated  these  Atrocious  Senti- 
ments to  a  fellow  Pom-pom  in  the  Opposing  Army 
which,  later,  catching  the  Field-battery  crossing  a 
Donga  gave  it  Ten-a-penny  for  two  Minutes  to  the 
Confusion  of  all  concerned. 

"  Alas !  "  said  the  Field-artillerist  as  he  watched 
his  Leg  disassociate  itself  from  the  Remainder  of  his 
Anatomy,  "  Who  would  have  thought  that  an 
Implement  officially  rejected  by  the  War  Office  and 
what  is  more,  damned  by  Myself,  could  have  done 
so  neat  a  Trick  ?  " 

Moral.  Do  not  condemn  the  Unofficial.  It 
hits  hard. 

^  Copyrighted,  used  here  by  permission. 
17  239 


War's  Brighter  Side 

THE  MILITARY  LETTER  WRITER 

Forms  and  Models 

by  rudyard  kipling  and  percival  landon 

No.  I 

{^From  a  General  of  Division  unshaven  for  eight 
days  who  lost  his  horse^  which  he  had  lately  comman- 
deered from  a  subaltern  of  transport^  after  having  dined 
not  wisely  but  too  well  at  a  Cavalry  Camp^  five  miles 
from  his  own  tent^  to  which  he  was  conducted  through  a 
rain-storm  by  an  inebi'iated  signaller,  to  Captain  Van- 
derby  I  of  the  Ninety- Third  Field  Hospital,  given  by 
voluntary  siibscriptions,  of  which  the  larger  part  remai?i 
to  this  day  utipaid,  so  that  the  hospital  is  without  ba?id- 
ages,  lint,  or  beds,  whom  he  suspects  of  being  accessory  to 
the  animal's  disappearance.) 

Respected  Sir  : — 

It  is  with  deep  pain  that  I  take  my  pen  in  hand 
to  trespass  on  your  valuable  time,  but  the  impera- 
tive needs  of  the  case  must  be  my  justification. 

Twelve  happy  hours  ago  I  was  the  proud,  and  I 
may  add,  the  lawful  possessor  of  a  bay  mare,  off 
fore  foot  white,  white  blaze  and  snip,  near  hind 
pastern  marked  by  heel  rope,  unshod  in  front  and 
ear  nicked,  which  I  think  I  left  with  a  man  with  two 
heads  but  that  may  have  been  on  account  of  the 
sherry  and  bitters  and  she  was  tied  up  to  the  railings 
because  my  boy  forgot  the  blanket  and  I  borrowed 
one  from  the  hospital  but  anyhow  I  know  that  when 
I  came  out  she  was  a  lousy  mule  and  the  saddle 
240 


^'  Vive  la  Compagnie  " 

cost  £6  los.  at  the  Army  and  Navy  Stores  and  I 
may  as  well  tell  you  at  once  if  you  have  tried  to  dis- 
pose of  it  that  they  are  marked  all  over  with  my 
name  and  rank.  Therefore,  Augustus  Burstem, 
General  of  Division  presents  his  compliments  to 
Captain  Vanderbyl  and  everybody  in  the  camp 
knows  the  mule  is  yours  and  besides  your  boy  was 
seen  grooming  her  at  the  back  of  your  tent  this 
morning.  I  want  it  back  by  bearer. 
Yours  sincerely, 

Augustus  Burstem, 
General. 

No.  II 

[From  a  saddle-chafed  officer  of  the  Staff  with 
Eva7igelicat  convictions  and  a  rooted  distaste  for  Scout- 
ing^ who  has  just  come  off  a  lo  days'  march  on  quarter 
rations  and  has  lost  half  his  transport  and  /  men  by  ad- 
vancing in  close  order  upon  the  white  flag  to  his  General^ 
who  has  a  taste  for  horse-racing  and  profanity  and  a 
good  seat  across  country^  seventeen  and  a  half  hours 
after  his  return  to  campy  and  seventeen  and  one  quarter 
hours  after  the  General  had  expressed  his  [the  General' s^ 
opinion  upon  his  (the  Captain's^  facial  peculiarities,  men- 
tal attainments,  moral  rectitude^  birth,  parentage,  and 
probable  future?) 

My  dear  Sir, — 

I  have  been  much  perplexed  for  some  days,  in 

consequence  of  a  growing  conviction — which  has 

indeed  been  deepening  for  some  weeks — that  we  are 

each  of  us  conscious  that  we  have  made  a  mistake 

241 


War's  Brighter  Side 

in  becoming  engaged.  I  believe  you  have  this  con- 
viction, as  I  am  obhged  to  confess  I  have.  Now  it 
is  infinitely  better  that  we  face  it  at  once.  I  would 
gladly  be  convinced  that  we  have  not  been  mistaken ; 
and  if  I  am  wrong  in  believing  that  this  thought  has 
been  in  your  mind  as  well  as  my  own,  pray  forgive 
me  for  having  misjudged  you.  How  else  can  I 
account  for  the  depression  which  seems  to  rule  you 
when  in  my  company,  and  for  the  apparent  relief 
which  parting  seems  to  bring  you  ?  Now,  will  you 
do  yourself  and  me  the  justice  to  ask  yourself 
seriously  whether  or  no  (I)  have  at  all  correctly 
gauged  your  feelings  ?  If  so,  I  would  wish  to  release 
you,  for  your  own  sake  as  well  as  for  mine.  It 
really  seems  that  we  have  each  discovered  that  our 
ideals  are  not  to  be  found  in  each  other.  If  so  we 
shall  respect  each  other  none  the  less  in  future 
years  that  we  had  the  courage  to  confess  to  each 
other  that  we  have  been  mistaken.  Kindly  write 
when  you  are  sure  of  the  answer  which  you  are 
sending. 

Faithfully  yours, 

Walter. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  this  and  the  follow- 
ing letter  are  taken  literally  word  for  word  from  a 
well-known  "  Letter  Writer."  Thus  we  see  the 
adaptability  of  these  invaluable  helps  to  the  epis- 
tolary art.  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  suggest  the 
original  suggested  circumstances  of  this  corre- 
spondence. 

242 


"Vive  la  Compagnie  '* 

No.  Ill      , 

THE  GENERAL'S  ANSWER 

Dear  Walter, — I  have  taken  a  few  days  to  sift 
my  thoughts  on  the  subject  of  your  last.  The  con- 
clusion that  I  have  come  to  is  practically  the  same  as 
yours.  I  have  no  blame  to  lay  on  you ;  on  the  con- 
trary, you  have  been  most  kind  and .  considerate 
in  all  things.  No  doubt,  without  intending  it,  we 
have  been  both  mistaken;  and  although  we  have 
honestly  tried  to  be  all  to  each  other,  yet  that 
mysterious  something  which  is  perhaps  best  ex- 
pressed by  the  word  "  affinity  "  has  been  lacking. 
So,  without  in  the  least  losing  my  respect  for  you — 
rather  it  has  increased — I  accept  the  proposal  con- 
tained in  your  last,  viz.,  that  our  engagement  should 
cease. 

Sincerely  yours, 

B.  I.  TuMEN,  Genl. 


UNITED  WE  STAND 

BY  TROOPER  G.  SIMES,  F  SQUADRON,  ROBERTS*  HORSE 

Who  are  these  hasting  with  speed  o'er  the  ocean, 

Meeting  together  in  one  common  cause. 
Proving  by  deed  and  a  tvhole-souled  devotion. 
Their  love  for  our  Flag  and  contempt  for  the 
Boers  ? 

243 


War's  Brighter  Side 

These  are  the  oversea  sons  of  one  mother, 

Some  bred  in  sunshine  and  some  bred  in  snow; 

Meeting  together  as  brother  with  brother, 

One  common  kindred  'gainst  one  common  foe. 

Bright  sunny  land  in  the  far-ofif  Pacific, 
Fit  habitation  for  men  such  as  these. 

Proving  their  birthright  in  battle  terrific, 
Sons  of  the  Mother  though  bred  overseas. 

Grand  snow-clad  land  on  the  stormy  Atlantic, 
Home  of  our  brothers  who  fight  with  us  here — 

Proving  by  deeds  most  high-souled  and  romantic 
Their  love  for  their  country  we  all  hold  so  dear. 

This  be  our  comfort  and  this  be  our  beacon — 
Blood  that  was  shed  has  but  bound  us  together, 

iNo  power  can  conquer,  no  quarrels  shall  weaken 
The  Rose  and  the  Maple,  the  Wattle  and  Heather ! 


TEN-A-PENNY'S 


A  certain  General  has  breathed  vengeance 
against  two  of  the  Editors  of  The  Friend,  threat- 
ening to  put  them  in  his  guard-room  if  he  finds 
them  within  his  lines.  They  are  not  afraid  of  him, 
but  prefer  to  admire  him  as  of  old.  They  scorn  his 
threats  but  will  welcome  an  invitation  to  lunch. 

*  "  Ten-a-Penny  "  was  a  soldiers'  nickname  for  the  Pom- 
pom.    "The  y  Doorknocker  "  it  was  christened  in  the 

Highland  Brigade.     The  word  *'  Pom-pom  "  came  first  into 
use  immediately  after  the  battle  of  Modder  River. 
244 


''  Vive  la  Compagnie  " 

A  linesman  describing  the  arrival  of  the  Guards 
Brigade  at  Bloemfontein  after  they  had  covered 
41  miles  in  22  hours :  "  An'  they  come  in  the  last 
mile  like  a  lot  o'  bloomin'  Park  hacks,  steppin'  'igh 
an'  dressin'  most  particular." 

A  French  waiter  at  a  Parisian  cafe  recently  heard 
the  news  of  Kimberley's  relief  and  observed  joy- 
ously :  "  Bon !  Fashoda  finds  itself  avenged.  Be- 
hold, ze  English  again  in  the  consommee,  for  ze 
French  are  in  Kimberley !  " 

*'  Look  here !  You  get  away  from  this  antheap. 
This  is  my  antheap.  There  are  plenty  around,  and 
you  find  one  for  yourself."  The  hail  of  Mauser 
bullets  from  the  kopje  was  pretty  heavy,  and  the 
nearest  antheap  at  least  fifty  yards  away,  so  the 
other  Grahamstown  man  disputed  the  uitlander 
theory  of  his  comrade,  and  insisted  on  staying. 
*'  Confound  you,  get  away  I  tell  you,  your  big  feet 
are  drawing  the  fire,  if  you  don't  Fll  break  your 
neck."  "  You  shut  up,"  said  the  other,  "  this  ant- 
heap  is  as  much  mine  as  yours,  besides  if  you  talk 

of  breaking  necks,  well "    There  appeared  to  be 

no  further  conversation,  but  the  officer  observed  the 
two  men  suddenly  arise  and  a  hot  set-to  followed. 
The  fire  was  too  hot  for  immediate  inquiry,  but  after 
a  prolonged  round  one  man  was  knocked  down,  the 
other  drew  him  behind  the  disputed  shelter,  and 
resumed  patient  firing  at  the  enemy. 

Later  a  request  was  made  for  orders  regarding 
the  possession  of  antheaps  by  irregulars. 
245 


War's  Brighter  Side 

A  well-known  scout  returning  from  Kimberley 
last  week  was  taken  prisoner  at  Modder  River  by  a 
party  of  eight  Boers.  He  was  sent  in  charge  of  two 
burghers  to  the  Boer  camp  near  Brandfort.  On  the 
way  the  Boers  off -saddled  and  their  horses  strayed. 
Leaving  their  prisoner  alone  with  their  guns  and 
ammunition,  which  they  had  laid  down,  they  went 
after  the  horses.  Here  was  an  excellent  opportunity. 
Both  Boers  were  at  his  mercy,  but  it  looked  too 
much  like  murder,  so  awaiting  their  return,  the 
scout,  who  could  speak  the  Taal,  appealed  to  them 
to  let  him  go,  telling  them  that  he  could  easily  have 
shot  them,  but  the  war  was  nearly  over,  and  he 
would  not  take  men's  lives  in  that  way ;  further,  that 
it  would  greatly  inconvenience  him  to  be  taken 
North,  and  he  might  be  able  to  put  in  a  good  word 
for  them  soon,  if  their  farms  should  be  in  danger. 
After  an  hour's  palaver  they  agreed  to  give  him  a 
show,  and  told  him  he  could  go.  They  then  escorted 
him  to  the  river  and  showed  him  the  road  to 
Bloemfontein. 


PONT  FILLED  WITH  BULLION 

This  is  the  story  of  two  men  who,  unarmed,  and 
without  a  guard  brought  £25,000  in  bullion  from 
Capetown  to  Bloemfontein,  through  a  country  still 
seething  with  dangers  of  war.  The  men  were  L.  L. 
Michell,  general  manager  of  the  Standard  Bank  of 
South  Africa,  and  W.  Munro  du  Preez,  formerly  of 
the  National  Bank  of  Harrismith,  now  teller  of  the 
Standard  Bank's  new  Bloemfontein  branch,  which 
246 


a 


Vive  la  Compagnie  " 


opened  to-day  in  the  building  on  Market  Square, 
formerly  occupied  by  the  Cafe  Royal  and  later  by 
the  Military  Post  Office. 

They  left  Capetown  on  Thursday  a  week  ago, 
with  twelve  boxes  of  specie,  each  one  of  which 
weighed  eighty  pounds.  For  six  days  they  lived, 
ate,  and  slept  on  those  boxes.  Their  only  holiday 
was  at  Naauwpoort,  when  they  paid  a  high  compli- 
ment to  six  A.  and  S.  Highlanders  by  putting  the 
boxes  in  their  charge  and  going  out  to  stretch  their 
legs.  For  hundreds  of  miles  the  train  ran  through 
desolate  karoo  in  which  a  band  of  train  robbers 
would  have  stood  a  fair  chance  of  success.  At 
Colesberg  the  twelve  heavy  boxes  were  piled  out 
again  on  the  platform  and  into  the  ladies'  waiting- 
room  and  the  weary  bankers  stretched  out  on  them, 
for  the  night. 

There  was  to  have  been  a  military  guard  for  the 
gold  at  Norval's  Pont  but  somehow  the  guard  did 
not  connect.  The  bank  men  found  themselves 
stalled  at  a  broken  bridge,  with  the  choice  of  trust- 
ing their  bullion  to  a  thin  wire  rope  slung  across 
the  broken  spans,  or  putting  it  on  a  pont  that  formed 
a  rope  ferry  across  the  river.    They  chose  the  pont. 

The  train  from  Capetown  reached  Orange  River 
at  2  o'clock  on  Tuesday  afternoon.  The  train  on 
the  north  side  of  the  river  had  to  wait  until  7  o'clock 
for  the  gold. 

The  transfer  across  the  river  was  the  most  in- 
teresting part  of  the  journey.  Messrs.  Michell  and 
du  Preez  deny  that  their  interest  had  anything  of 

247 


War's  Brighter  Side 

anxiety  in  it.  They  trusted  the  twelve  sweating 
volunteers  who  wandered  wide  from  the  train  to  the 
pont  with  its  960  pounds  avoirdupois  and  25,000 
pounds  sterling.  Du  Preez  walked  at  the  head  of 
the  volunteers  and  Michell  at  the  tail.  The  volun- 
teers seemed  to  be  walking  all  over  the  country. 

So  the  twelve  boxes  were  finally  slammed  into 
the  guard's  van  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  and 
the  bank  manager  and  his  teller  clambered  in  on  top 
of  them.  If  there  was  a  military  guard  on  the  train 
they  didn't  have  the  comfort  of  knowing  it.  They 
had  been  told  that  all  the  Boers  were  giving  in  their 
arms  and  that  the  country  through  which  they  rode 
was  thoroughly  pacified,  but  then,  as  du  Preez  said, 
"  when  you  are  travelling  with  twelve  boxes  of 
bullion  you  can't  be  dead  sure  of  anything." 

When  the  train  reached  Bloemfontein  on 
Wednesday,  the  boxes  were  taken  at  once  to  the 
vaults  of  the  National  Bank  of  the  Orange  Free 
State,  and  the  two  men,  wearied  by  their  six  days' 
vigil,  went  at  once  to  bed,  and  to  sleep. 

Mr.  Michell,  who  manages  the  Standard  Bank 
affairs  in  all  parts  of  South  Africa,  is  only  tempo- 
rarily in  Bloemfontein.  Mr.  D.  Savory,  formerly 
of  the  branch  bank  at  Oudtshoorn,  will  be  manager 
of  the  Bloemfontein  branch.  Mr.  A.  S.  D.  Robert- 
son, formerly  in  the  branch  bank  at  Ceres,  will  be 
accountant,  and  Mr.  du  Preez  will  be  teller. 


248 


CHAPTER    XIII 

We    Leave  "The  Friend"  to  See  a  Fight 

The  Thirteenth  Number,  produced  by  Mr.  James 
Barnes  of  Nezv  York 

The  last  of  the  dinner  was  still  in  our 
mouths,  the  last  words  in  answer  to  the  toasts 
had  not  been  spoken  five  hours  when,  at  day- 
break on  the  29th,  we  were  all,  except  Mr. 
James  Barnes,  on  the  way  to  the  battle  of  the 
Glen  (or  of  Karree  Siding,  as  it  is  sometimes 
called).  Mr.  Barnes  most  kindly  remained  to 
take  entire  control  of  The  Friend,  which  is  to 
say  that  he  undertook  the  work  of  four  men, 
and  had  as  his  only  assistant  a  bright  young 
American  journalist  from  Philadelphia,  Mr.  Jo- 
seph W.  Jenkins.  This  young  gentleman  had 
worked  hard  and  gratuitously  for  us  from  the 
first  as  the  gatherer  of  the  news  of  the  little 
capital,  and  very  fertile  and  versatile  he  proved. 

Mr.  Bennet  Burleigh  took  Mr.  Kipling  to 
the  fight  in  his  Cape-cart,  and  they  started  out 
249 


War's  Brighter  Side 

with  more  style  and  comfort  than  an  Oriental 
general  swaying  on  the  cushioned  howdah  of 
his  elephant  charger.  But  the  course  of  a  day 
in  war  is  as  uncertain  as  that  of  love  or  as  the 
nature  of  the  white  men,  and,  early  in  the  day, 
the  Poet  of  the  Empire  was  under  a  hot  Mauser 
fire.  Far  from  being  nervous  or  regretting  the 
experience,  he  seemed  to  feel  only  the  tingle  of 
the  excitement.  If  you  could  get  him  to  refer 
to  it  you  saw  that  he  rejoiced  to  have  felt  the 
breath  and  heard  the  weird,  low  song  of  the 
leaden  rain. 

For  myself  I  had  such  an  inglorious  esca- 
pade as  no  man  would  care  to  dwell  upon  who 
was  in  a  war  to  get  the  best  or  the  worst,  but 
not  to  be  incapacitated  by  what  could  have  hap- 
pened at  home.  In  a  word,  I  went  into  a  wire 
fence  off  the  back  of  a  frightened  racehorse, 
and  was  obliged  to  go  on  to  the  battle,  belated 
and  with  both  fore-arms  torn  into  strips,  not  to 
speak  of  injuries  which  must  stay  by  me  as  me- 
mentoes of  the  day  so  long  as  I  live. 

Mr.  Barnes's  number  of  The  Friend  was  a 
good  one.  His  editorial,  "  As  to  the  Future," 
was  very  vigorous,  and  must  have  pleased  Sir 
Alfred  Milner,  who  did  us  the  honour  to  say 
that  he  valued  the  paper  as  a  most  efficient  arm 
of  the  effort  to  pacify  and  reconcile  to  their  fate 
our  neighbours  of  the  Free  State.  He  sug- 
250 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

gested  to  me  that  we  should  address  ourselves 
more  drectly  to  the  Boers,  and  always  with  a 
view  to  impressing  them  with  our  magnanimous 
intentions,  and  the  benefits  and  advantages  of 
enlightened  British  rule.  It  was  his  suggestion, 
also,  that  all  articles  calculated  to  encourage 
resignation  on  their  part  should  be  duplicated 
in  the  Taal  language,  and  this  wise  plan  we  be- 
gan at  once  to  endeavour  to  follow.  We  suc- 
ceeded but  feebly,  because  we  did  not  know  the 
Taal  ourselves,  and  we  could  not  trust  the 
majority  of  the  sometimes  "  slim  "  ones  among 
the  few  who  were  able  to  perform  the  work  of 
translation  creditably. 

In  this  number  of  the  paper  Mr.  Barnes  pub- 
lished No.  4  of  Mr.  Kipling's  "  Fables  for  the 
Stafif,"  and  the  poem  by  Mr.  Kipling  on  Per- 
cival  Landon's  birthday.  "  A  Realistic  Com- 
edy," by  an  anonymous  writer,  the  third  of  Mr. 
Gwynne's  articles  on  the  art  of  war,  and  a  bit  of 
a  brief  correspondence  between  the  army  teleg- 
raphists and  Mr.  Bennet  Burleigh  were  also  in 
this  entertaining  number. 

Mr.  Barnes  was  exceedingly  well  liked  by  all 
who  knew  him  in  the  army,  and  was  much 
sought  as  a  companion,  for  his  unvarying  good 
humour  and  for  such  a  fund  of  anecdotes,  songs, 
and  imitations  as  was  possessed  by  no  one  else 
of  our  acquaintance.  I  think  the  best  of  his 
251 


War's  Brighter  Side 

anecdotes  of  his  own  experiences  in  the  war  was 
concerning  the  Boer  losses  at  Driefontein.  The 
British  had  found  more  than  sixty  bodies,  and 
knew  that  fifty  other  Boers  had  been  killed. 
(I  will  not  say  that  these  are  the  exact  figures, 
but  they  give  a  just  idea  of  the  actual  losses  of 
the  Boers.)  Nevertheless,  when  Barnes  ques- 
tioned a  Boer  prisoner  taken  at  that  battle,  the 
man  said  that  his  force  had  suffered  a  loss  of 
only  eight  killed. 

"  Then  who  is  it  that  gets  killed  by  our  bul- 
lets in  all  these  fights?  "  Barnes  asked.  ''  We 
light  you,  and  after  each  battle  we  see  the  dead 
being  carried  off;  we  find  other  dead  on  the 
field,  and  we  see  the  loose  mounds  of  earth 
under  which  you  have  hastily  buried  others. 
Who  are  these  dead  men?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  slim  rascal,  ''  our 
commandant  said  we  only  had  eight  men  killed 
at  Abraham's  Kraal  (Driefontein)." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Barnes.  "  He  must 
know  how  many  you  lost.  But  we  saw  over 
sixty  dead  bodies  where  you  had  been  fighting, 
whose  bodies  do  you  suppose  they  were?  not 
Boers,  of  course,  but  still  they  belonged  to  some 
people  who  had  been  shot.  There  seems  to  be 
in  South  Africa  a  mysterious  race  of  people  who 
follow  you  around  in  this  war  and  persist  in  get- 
ting in  the  way  of  our  bullets.  I  should  think 
252 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

you  would  warn  them  of  their  danger,  or  give 
orders  for  them  to  stop  coming  to  all  the  bat- 
tles. They  may  have  wives  and  children  who 
mourn  them;  at  all  events,  they  are  not  needed 
as  filters  in  all  the  rivers,  or  for  starting  informal 
cemeteries  all  over  the  veldt  as  they  have  been 
doing  ever  since  the  fighting  began.  I  wonder 
what  people  they  are." 

''  I  don't  know.  We  only  lost  eight,"  said 
the  Boer. 

''  And  we  buried  sixty,"  said  Barnes. 
''  Really  you  ought  to  find  out  who  these  bullet- 
stoppers  are,  and  warn  them  not  to  be  always 
getting  killed  by  us  who  have  no  quarrel  with 
them  and  are  only  trying  to  shoot  Boers." 

Another  of  Mr.  Barnes's  tales  is  of  that 
awful  daybreak  massacre  at  Maghersfontein. 
Mr.  Barnes  was  forging  ahead  to  learn  what  had 
happened  when  he  met  three  men  in  kilts  dash- 
ing over  the  veldt,  away  from  the  battle. 

"  Here,"  Mr.  Barnes  cried,  "  who  are  you? 
Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Oh,  mon,"  said  one  of  the  poor  unnerved 
chaps,  "  we  are  a'  that's  left  o'  the  Black  W^atch." 

In  defence  of  themselves  against  some  in- 
convenience of  which  Mr.  Burleigh  had  com- 
plained, these  men  of  the  R.E.  Corps  declared 
that  their  stafif  in  Bloemfontein  "performed  17 
(seventeen)  hours  last  Sunday  in  order  to  re- 
253 


War's  Brighter  Side 

move  pressure  produced  to  a  great  extent  by 
work  other  than  military.  Whilst  every  other 
arm  of  the  service  had  been  enjoying  a  brief  and 
well-earned  rest,  our  portion  has  consisted  of  at 
least  twelve  hours'  hard  work  at  the  instrument, 
cooped  up  in  a  room  reeking  with  a  pestilen- 
tial atmosphere  which  has,  in  several  cases,  pro- 
duced violent  vomiting. 

''  After  all,  we  can  nurse  to  our  breasts  the 
satisfaction  that  our  gallant  Commander-in- 
Chief  has  been  pleased  to  specially  thank  the 
much-despised  corps  for  the  indispensable  serv- 
ices rendered  by  it." 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts*  Forces^ 

^Q        1  BLOEMFONTEIN,  T       Price 

"^  THURSDAY,   MARCH   29,    1900.        LOne  Penny. 

GOVERNMENT  NOTICE 

By  order  of  his  Lordship  the  Field  Marshal 
Commanding-in-Chief  the  British  Forces  in  South 
Africa,  it  is  notified  that  Quit  Rents  on  Farms 
should  now  be  paid  in  to  the  Receiver  at  the  Land- 
drost's  Office.  Amounts  not  paid  on  or  before  the 
31st  May,  1900,  are  liable  to  be  doubled. 

James  A.  Collins,  Landdrost. 
Landdrost's  Office,  Bloemfontein,  March  26,  1900. 


254 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

FABLES  FOR  THE  STAFF  ^ 
IV. — Vain  Horses 

BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 

A  Cavalry-horse  of  indubitable  Valour,  carrying 
a  complete  Wardrobe  Office  and  House-keeping 
Apparatus  on  his  back,  met  by  chance  a  Boer  pony 
of  unprepossessing  Exterior. 

"  My  ungroomed  Friend,"  said  the  Horse,  "  let 
me  draw  your  attention  to  my  Master's  portable 
Bath,  Umbrella,  Typewriter,  Hair  Brushes,  Dress- 
ing-case, and  complete  Service  of  Plate ;  also  to  my 
own  spare  Shoes  and  cold  Collation  for  the  next 
Week.  Few  I  opine  enjoy  such  luxurious  appoint- 
ments." 

"  They  are  indeed  fin  dc  siccle  and  non- plus-ultra,'* 
remarked  the  ewe-necked  Son  of  the  Veldt,  *'  but 
You  must  excuse  Me  for  I  see  my  Master  approach- 
ing. He  does  not  use  Hair-brushes,  and  I  have 
neither  spare  shoes  nor  curry  combs." 

"  Then  I  must  trouble  you  to  return  as  my 
Prisoner,"  said  the  Horse. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  replied  the  Child  of  the  un- 
grassed  Kopje,  "  It  is  a  condition  and  not  a  theory 
that  confronts  us.  Let  me  draw  your  attention  to 
my  scintillatery  heels." 

So  saying  the  Unkempt  Equine  departed  in  a 
neat  cloud  of  Dust,  from  the  Centre  of  which  his 
Master  scientifically  shot  the  Cavalry  Horse  in  the 
Abdomen. 

*  Copyrighted,  used  by  the  author's  permission. 
18  255 


War's  Brighter  Side 

A  BIRTHDAY  GREETING^ 

BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Tell  the  smiling  Afric  morn, 
Let  the  stony  kopje  know, 

Landon  of  the  Times  was  born 
One  and  thirty  years  ago. 

Whisper  greetings  soft  and  low, 
Pour  the  whisky,  deal  the  bun, 

Only  Bell  and  Buckle  know 
All  the  evil  he  has  done. 


FOR  WIDOWS  AND  ORPHANS 

In  accordance  with  the  public  notice  printed  in 
this  journal,  a  meeting  of  war  correspondents  was 
held  yesterday  afternoon  at  the  Free  State  Hotel, 
Bloemfontein,  when  the  arrangements  for  a  concert 
to  be  given  in  the  Town  Hall  "  in  aid  of  widows  and 
orphans  "  were  discussed.  Messrs.  Bennet  Burleigh 
{Daily  Telegraph),  Pearce  (Daily  News),  Maxwell 
(Standard),  and  Haarburgher,  were  appointed  mem- 
bers of  the  Executive  Committee  with  power  to 
add  to  their  number,  .and  it  was  decided  that  the 
proceeds  of  the  concert  should  be  divided  equally 

*  The  birthday  of  Mr.  Percival  Landon.  This  poem  is 
copyrighted  in  England  and  America,  and  is  used  here  by 
Mr.  Kipling's  permission. 

256 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

between  the  London  and  Bloemfontein  funds.  The 
date,  which  remains  to  be  fixed,  will  probably  be 
Friday  of  next  week,  and  the  prices  of  admission  5s., 
3s.,  and  IS.,  the  latter  for  soldiers  in  uniform. 


A  REALISTIC  COMEDY 

I  haven't  often  been  really  defeated,  but  I  felt 
very  like  it  that  Black  Monday. 

My  convoy  consisted  of  self  and  Jimmy  (my  sub- 
altern), two  conductors,  100  native  drivers,  about 
500  oxen,  and  40  waggons.  We  were  hundreds  of 
miles  from  the  front  so  had  no  escort,  and  were 
fifteen  miles  from  anywhere.  The  country  was  sim- 
ply a  succession  of  kopjes  as  like  each  other  as  a 
pair  of  ammunition  boots,  the  map  was  much  too 
small  a  scale  to  be  of  any  use,  and  our  native  guide 
had  lost  the  way ! 

We  ought  to  have  struck  water  about  dawn,  after 
trekking  all  night,  but  there  wasn't  a  sign  of  it.  The 
heat  was  awful  as  we  toiled  our  dusty  way  between 
those  glaring  kopjes,  until  about  noon  we  sighted 
a  stagnant  dam,  half  full,  and  we  went  for  it  like 
savages,  men,  oxen  and  all. 

It  must  have  been  absolute  rank  poison.  In  a 
couple  of  hours  two  men  were  writhing  on  the 
ground,  a  score  more,  blue  and  shivering,  were 
feeling  touched,  and  the  whole  lot  were  thoroughly 
funked.  It  was  just  like  a  native  cholera  camp  in 
India,  and  to  those  who  have  experienced  that  I 
need  say  no  more. 

257 


War's  Brighter  Side 

We  sent  out  our  most  useful  men  on  our  best 
horses,  to  hunt  the  country,  five  miles  round  for  a 
farm  or  well;  we  started  fires  to  boil  water  and 
worked  our  wretched  little  filters  for  all  they  were 
worth.  Jimmy  and  I  had  a  bottle  of  chlorodyne 
apiece,  but  they  were  empty  in  an  hour  or  so  and 
our  whisky  was  finished  soon  afterward.  I  had 
meant  to  trek  again  as  soon  as  it  got  dark,  but 
before  the  sun  touched  the  horizon  all  our  scouts 
were  back — not  a  drop  of  water  anywhere!  Had 
there  been  any,  I  doubt  if  we  could  have  got  to  it 
— half  our  oxen  were  incapable  of  moving  and  the 
blacks  were  simply  off  their  heads.  But  I  noticed 
that  our  chlorodyne,  either  by  its  own  power,  or  by 
the  belief  they  put  in  it,  had  really  done  good.  So  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  a  night  there  and  called  up 
one  of  the  conductors. — "  Take  the  native  guide  and 
bring  me  two  of  the  best  horses  you  can  find — ride 
straight  on  for  all  you  are  worth — find  a  farm — ofifer 
them  any  sum  to  send  on  this  note  of  mine  to  Viten 
Siding  for  a  doctor  and  medicines — bring  back  any 
drugs  they've  got  and  brandy  or  spirits — come  back 
as  hard  as  you  can." 

Then  we  settled  down  to  the  most  ghastly  night 
I've  ever  spent ;  we  walked  the  bed  cases  up  and 
down — don't  know  what  good  this  is  but  had  seen 
it  done  in  India — put  on  mustard  poultices  till  we 
fairly  took  the  blacks'  skins  of? — and  knocked  down 
a  few  who  were  howling  about  the  camp  in  sheer 
panic.  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done 
without  Jimmy,  but  even  his  chafi  couldn't  keep 

258 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

the  poor  devils  amused.  About  midnight  I  had  a 
bad  turn  myself  and  Jimmy  put  me  to  bed,  but  it 
wore  off,  and  I  fell  into  a  nightmared  slumber.  Just 
before  dawn  I  awoke;  Jimmy  was  brewing  coffee 
and  whistling :  "  When  we  are  married." 

"  How  do  you  feel  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Perfecdy  fit  again.    Any  dead  ?  " 

*'  Only  two,  but  they  were  sick  before.  All  the 
lot  in  blue  funks  still." 

"  Conductor  back  ?  " 

"  No."  Then  we  strained  our  eyes  in  the  direc- 
tion where  he  had  disappeared. 

I  remember  wondering  dreamily  why  Jimmy 
whistled  so  damned  out  of  tune,  and  whether  any 
of  us  would  ever  get  out  of  this  death-trap,  when  we 
saw  a  speck  far  up  the  road.  Jimmy  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  "  Dolly  Day  Dreams,"  spilt  his  coffee,  and 
dashed  off  up  the  road. 

The  conductor  had  killed  his  own  horse  and  the 
guide's ;  had  found  a  farm  ten  miles  away ;  had  sent 
on  my  note  but  Doctor  could  not  arrive  till  to- 
morrow ;  there  were  no  drugs  at  the  farm,  but  he'd 
brought  us  two  bottles  of  Dop  ^  and  four  loaves  of 
fresh  bread  done  up  in  a  brown  parcel ! 

A  crowd  of  niggers  were  hovering  round  as  near 
my  tent  as  they  dared  come,  hoping  to  catch  an 
inkling  of  the  news,  and  I  could  tell  from  the  tone 
of  their  low  mutterings  that  they  expected  nothing 
good.    For  a  moment  I  was  badly  defeated. 

Then   a   Heaven-sent   inspiration   seized   me — 

*  Cape  Good  Hope  brandy. 
259 


War's  Brighter  Side 

"  Well,  Brown,"  I  said,  raising  my  voice,  **  So  that's 
the  chlorodyne  is  it  ?  " — I  seized  the  big  brown- 
paper  parcel — "  It's  five  o'clock  now ;  tell  every  Jack 
man  in  camp  he's  to  fall  in  here  sharp  at  six  for  a 
dose  of  chlorodyne." 

The  conductor  stared  at  me;  I  suppose  he 
thought  I  was  mad. 

"  Don't  you  hear,"  I  cried ;  "  go  off  at  once,  and 
don't  let  anybody  interrupt  us  while  we  have  break- 
fast." And  I  managed  to  give  him  the  faintest  wink 
— in  another  minute  I  heard  him  shouting  my  order 
through  the  camp. 

"  Jimmy,  let's  make  chlorodyne."  Jimmy 
grinned.  "  Collis  Browne's  is  the  best,"  he  said ; 
*'  twenty  drops  for  an  adult." 

Then  he  started  whistling  again  while  we  shut 
up  the  tent  and  went  to  work. 

"  Small  bottles  are  no  use,"  I  said,  "  must  have 
wholesale  manufactory;  we'll  find  that  demi-john." 

We  started  with  two  tins  of  condensed  milk — to 
give  it  a  bit  of  body — and  a  tin  of  Van  Houten's 
cocoa  made  a  grand  colouring.  Two  big  spoonfuls 
of  red  pepper,  "  to  ginger  it  up."  "  Must  mix  our 
flavour,"  said  Jimmy,  "  or  they'll  recognise  the 
brand " — so  in  went  Bengal  chutney  and  straw- 
berry jam.  We  were  rummaging  out  our  grocery 
box — "  Sardines  ain't  much  use,  nor  cheese,  nor 
Danish  butter;  but  here's  a  bottle  of  the  nastiest 
pickles  I  ever  tasted,  let's  give  them  the  juice  of  that ; 
they  won't  believe  it's  medicine  unless  it  tastes  bad." 

**  My  tooth  powder  is  nasty  enough,"  said  Jim- 

260 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

my,  "  Carbolic  something,  and  warranted  to  do  no 
harm — in  it  goes." 

The  two  bottles  of  Dop  were  chucked  in  as  a 
finish  and  the  mixture  was  nasty  enough  for  any- 
body— rich  brown,  creamy,  and  fiery  hot. 

Jimmy  had  entered  heart  and  soul  into  the  busi- 
ness— "  None's  genuine  without  the  label,"  he  cried, 
and  rushed  at  our  small  stationery  box.  "  Hullo, 
sealing  wax,  here,  you  find  a  cork  and  seal  it  up ; 
these  cards  will  do  for  labels.  Some  of  these  nig- 
gers can  read  and  write,  so  we  must  play  the  game 
right  through.  If  they  spot  us  we're  done.  Now, 
men — Genuine  Chlorodyne — for  coughs,  colds,  &c. 
— every  three  hours  till  the  pain  ceases ;  to  be  well 
shaken  before  taken.  And  another  label — ^To  O.C. 
No.  2,  General  Hospital,  Viten  Sideing, — On  H.M. 
Service — free — franked.  Dirty  the  paper  a  bit  to 
show  it's  come  a  long  way — then  when  we  throw 
the  jar  away  they'll  see  it's  genuine." 

**  They  don't  have  chlorodyne  in  our  hospitals,'* 
I  suggested. 

"  Go  to  blazes !  the  niggers  aren't  cute  enough 
for  that.  But  look  here,  old  chap,  you  look  a  bit 
cheap ;  we'll  resurrect  you  to  start  with.  I'm  afraid 
you'll  have  to  take  some,  but  I'll  make  it  as  small  a 
dose  as  I  can." 

Then  I  lay  down  huddled  up  in  a  corner.  The 
opening  tableau  was  ready,  and  we  rang  up  the 
curtain,  or  rather  the  tent-flap.  Jimmy  was  as 
serious  as  a  judge:  "All  present,  conductor?  All 
right;  where's  that  medicine  got  to?     Oh,  there; 

261 


War's  Brighter  Side 

now  then,  anybody  got  a  corkscrew  ?  "  A  hum 
went  up  from  the  figures  squatting  round.  Jimmy 
held  up  his  hand :  *'  Quiet  there,  the  captain  is  very 
bad ;  I  must  see  to  him  first."  He  lifted  my  droop- 
ing head  and  forced  a  spoonful  of  the  filth  between 
my  teeth. 

I  heaved  a  sigh,  patted  myself  below  the  belt, 
rolled  my  eyes  open,  and  stood  up,  fully  recovered ! 

Astonishment  mingled  with  applause ! 

We  selected  a  hulking,  big  brute  as  the  next 
victim.  He  was  palpably  shamming;  he  spluttered 
a  bit  over  his  dose,  but  took  the  cue  from  me: 
patted  himself,  rolled  his  eyes,  and  was  recovered. 

Genuine  plaudits. 

"  Next,"  said  Jimmy.  It  reminded  me  of  the 
brimstone  and  treacle  at  Dotheboys  Hall. 

Applause  gave  way  to  regular  hilarity,  and  the 
blacks  were  soon  ragging  each  other  on  the  faces 
they  made. 

"  This  is  the  biggest  thing  of  modern  times," 
said  Jimmy  as  the  last  man  went  ofif  grinning  and 
spluttering.  "  Talk  about  faith-healing — well,  either 
it's  an  absolute  fact,  or  else  we  two  are  the  leading 
medical  stars  of  the  new  century." 

Then  Jimmy  and  I  shook  hands,  and  he  tried  to 
whistle  "  Dolly  Day  Dreams  "  again,  but  couldn't 
manage  it  for  a  minute  or  two. 

There  were  a  few  real  bad  cases  still,  but  they  all 
pulled  through. 

Then  we  served  out  to  the  men  the  best  rations 
we  could  raise  and  a  bit  of  'baccy  apiece.     They 

262 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

cooked  away  with  a  will,  filled  themselves  out  with 
breakfast,  lay  down  beneath  their  waggons,  and 
went  to  sleep. 

Jimmy  and  I  went  to  sleep  too.  At  sunset  we 
inspanned  and  made  the  lo  miles  to  the  farm  early. 
Our  doctor  met  us  there. 

But  I  shall  never  hear  **  Dolly  Day  Dreams  " 
again  without  thinking  of  bare  veldt,  black  faces, 
and  chlorodyne. 

Anonymous. 


THE  ''  N.CO." 

There's  some  one  in  the  Army  that 
I'd  like  to  write  about. 
For  it's  seldom  that  he  gets  his 
share  of  praise, 
He's  as  gallant  as  most  lions  and 
you  can  always  hear  him  shout, 
Through  the  rattle  of  the  battle 
now-a-days. 

When  we  read  in  all  the  papers  of 
the  Comp'ny  officers  killed 
We  don't  stop  to  think  who  has 
to  take  their  place ; 
But  if  we  knew,  our  hearts  with 
admiration  would  be  filled 
For  the  N.C.O.  with  grim  and 
grimy  face. 

263 


War's  Brighter  Side 

His  language  on  the  barrack  square, 
ain't  quite  what  it  should  be, 
And  it's  probable  he  likes  his 
whack  of  beer, 
But  there's  nothing  like  that  voice 
of  his,  and  never  yet  will  be 
To  steady  the  young  soldier  when 
he's  feeling  "  Bullet-queer." 


He's  ahead  in  all  the  rushes,  he's 
the  last  one  to  retire. 
And  in  battle's  got  a  joke  for  every 
one; 
He  doesn't  seem  to  mind  a  damn,  when 
under  Mauser  fire, 
And  he  don't  forget  the  wounded 
when  the  day  is  fought  and  won. 


Then,  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling,  here's 
more  work  for  you  to  do, 
You've  sung  of  gallant  "  Tommies  " 
and  their  deeds. 
Just  write  about  their  N.C.O/s 
and  give  thefn  all  their  due, 
For  good  N.C.O.'s  are  what  the 
Army  needs. 


264 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

IS  THE  ART  OF  WAR  REVOLUTIONISED? 

BY    H.   A.    GWYNNE 

III. — Cavalry 

The  "  Art  of  War,"  which,  I  must  confess,  is  but 
a  feeble  equivalent  for  the  art  militaire  of  the  French, 
covers  strategy  and  tactics.  In  discussing  the  duties 
of  any  particular  arm  in  warfare  it  is  obvious  that 
the  discussion  must  necessarily  deal  with  tactics 
rather  than  strategy,  which,  I  take  it,  will  not  un- 
dergo any  great  change  as  long  as  human  nature 
remains  subject  to  its  present  limitations.  But  the 
arm  which  I  am  now  discussing  has  been  and  will 
be  in  the  future  even  more  the  chief  instrument  used 
by  a  general  who  wishes  to  carry  out  big  strategic 
movements.  Wherefore  cavalry  must,  above  all 
things,  be  mobile,  ready  to  move  at  the  shortest 
moment,  prepared  in  every  respect  to  carry  out 
quickly  the  ideas  of  the  commander. 

The  "  strategic  arm,"  as  the  cavalry  has  been 
styled,  has  been  called  upon,  during  the  present 
campaign,  to  face  difficulties  which  have  been  almost 
unknown  in  former  campaigns.  First  and  foremost 
it  has  had  to  operate  against  an  army  of  mounted 
infantry,  more  mobile  than  itself.  Waterless  plains, 
heat,  and  short  rations,  have  been  difficulties  which 
in  Europe  would  be  absent.  Foreign  criticisms  on 
the  operations  of  our  cavalry  in  the  present  cam- 
paign are  based  on  false  premises,  inasmuclf  that 
their  authors  assume  a  plentiful  supply  of  water,  an 
265 


War's  Brighter  Side 

equable  climate,  an  easy  transport,  and  a  fair  amount 
of  supplies.  They  have  not  taken  into  account  the 
fact  that  our  cavalry  have  had  to  cut  themselves  off 
from  all  supplies  in  what,  for  all  practical  purposes, 
is  a  howling  desert,  for  the  English  horses  have 
steadily  refused  to  touch  the  veldt-grass.  If  there 
is  one  criticism  on  the  operations  of  our  cavalry 
which  can  in  any  sense  be  justified,  it  is  that  in 
many  cases  we  have  made  it  an  objective  of  our 
movements  to  charge  the  enemy.  By  doing  so,  we 
have  perhaps  sacrificed  opportunities  of  outflanking 
the  Boers  for  the  illusive  chance  of  proving  the 
efficiency  of  the  arme  blanche  on  an  enemy,  whose 
only  weapon  is  a  rifle.  I  once  heard  a  distinguished 
cavalry  officer  declare  that  it  was  his  conviction  that 
in  a  two-mile  race,  starting  fair,  the  Boer,  mounted 
on  his  little  African  pony,  would  outpace  our  troop- 
ers riding  a  big  English  horse  and  carrying  an 
equipment  which  reminded  him  of  the  picture  of 
Father  Christmas.  But  as  over  two  million  people 
have  at  different  times  criticised  the  weight  of  cav- 
alry equipment,  and  nobody,  except  the  Boer,  has 
given  us  a  remedy,  we  may  leave  this  portion  of  our 
subject  to  lecturer — the  U.S.  Institute. 

The  great  question  which  will  have  to  be  an- 
swered in  the  near  future  is  whether  the  mounted 
force  of  an  army  is  to  be  cavalry  or  mounted  in- 
fantry. To  my  mind  there  can  be  no  doubt  about 
the  answer.  The  mounted  forces  of  the  future  will 
be  cavalry,  and  in  much  greater  proportion  to  in- 
fantry than  at  present.    The  great  force  of  mounted 

266 


We  Leave  to  See  a  Fight 

infantry  which  we  have  raised  in  the  present  war  is 
intended  to  cope  with  an  army  of  Mounted  Infantry 
opposed  to  us.  Whether  they  will  ever  be  used 
again  is  doubtful.  But  what  certainly  will  be  the  case 
is  that  the  cavalry  of  the  future  will  have  to  know 
how  to  shoot,  and  must  be  provided  with  something 
better  than  a  carbine  to  shoot  with.  And  practically 
they  will  then  be  Mounted  Infantry  with  an  arme 
blanche.  "  Shock  tactics  "  will  have  to  give  place 
to  long-range  firing,  and  the  cavalrymen  of  the 
future  will  be  seen  digging  and  holding  trenches, 
holding  kopjes,  and  repelling  with  riHe  fire  the  ad- 
vance of  the  enemy's  Cavalry.  This  indeed  will  be  a 
revolution. 


267 


CHAPTER    XIV 

My  Horse  Offered  For  Sale 

Kipling  at  last  writes  something  that  pleases  the 
Boers — A  Predikanfs  letter 

In  the  paper  of  March  30th  we  offered  as 
complete  and — you  may  be  sure — as  unique  a 
newspaper  as  it  was  possible  to  produce.  It 
contained  the  fresh  news  of  the  world,  and  it 
was  at  the  same  time  full  of  the  atmosphere  of 
the  army  and  the  battlefield;  of  the  outpourings 
of  men  who  had  laid  down  the  sword  and  rifle  to 
take  up  the  pen.  I  wish  I  could  reproduce  the 
entire  paper,  but  after  all  it  was  like  many  that 
followed,  and  to  reproduce  them  all  would  make 
a  book  too  cumbrous  to  handle  and  too  full  of 
warlike  and  military  subjects  to  interest  at  least 
half  of  the  public.  Practically  the  entire  first 
page  was  given  up  to  proclamations,  and  looked 
like  a  miniature  hoarding  hidden  under  minia- 
ture posters.  These  crowded  over  into  two  col- 
umns of  the  second  page,  which  also  contained 
268 


Tim 

^inA^^^^^mt%M&  ^t.i^fe^... 

ij 

U^^  ^m'^^W  ^^KKM 

1 

Julian  Ralph  and  his  horse   "  Rattlesnake. 


My  Horse  OiFered  For  Sale 

the  still  swelling  display  of  advertisements  of 
lost  horses  and  horses  for  sale.  Among  the  lat- 
ter was  this — 


First-class  Hunter  for  Sale 

Julian  Ralph  desires  to  sell  his  blooded  hunter 
"  Rattlesnake,"  a  superb  horse  with  noted  pedigree. 
He  is  in  splendid  working  condition  {aside — has 
caused  his  owner  to  wear  a  casing  of  lint,  and  to  walk 
with  difficulty  on  a  heavy  stick).  The  horse  can  be 
seen  at  the  Red  House  behind  the  Dutch  Reformed 
Church. 


The  italics  in  the  above  advertisement  are 
inserted  here,  and  were  not  in  the  newspaper. 
They  suggest  what  novel  forms  advertisements 
would  often  take  if  the  advertisers  always  truth- 
fully explained  why  they  wished  to  part  with 
their  property. 

W.  A.  Koller,  the  town  clerk,  notified  all 
residents  to  call  upon  him  and  make  a  true  state- 
ment of  the  bond  -fides  of  all  their  possessions  in 
horseflesh.  Captain  P.  Holland-Pryor,  A.A.G., 
requested  every  burgher  who  had  not  given  up 
any  Government  horse  in  his  possession  to  do  so 
without  delay.  Truly,  the  horse  occupied  a 
large  share  of  interest  and  attention — much 
larger  now  that  we  were  in  need  of  horses  than 
269 


War's  Brighter  Side 

when  they  had  come  in  abundance  from  every 
corner  of  the  earth. 

We  pubHshed  a  remarkable  address  to  the 
Free  Staters  by  the  Rev.  A.  A.  Van  der  Lingen, 
once  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency.  He  asked 
them  if  it  was  right  for  them  to  assail  the  peace- 
ful territories  of  the  British  when  thousands  of 
their  kith  and  kin  are  enjoying  a  full  and  perfect 
measure  of  equality  and  justice.  He  demanded 
to  know  "  what  you  think  seriously,  in  your  own 
minds,  will  become  of  you  if  you  prosecute  the 
war  and  lose."  The  "  old  soldiers  of  Bloem- 
fontein " — it  seems  there  were  eight  retired 
veterans — cheered  the  Field-Marshal  with  an 
address. 

Our  five-guinea  competition  for  the  renam- 
ing of  the  Colony  went  on  apace,  and  we  re- 
corded a  great  day  of  sport  among  the  men  of 
the  Sixth  Division,  who  enjoyed  the  band  of 
the  Buffs  and  the  pipes  of  the  Seaforths,  Gor- 
dons, Black  Watch,  and  Argyle  and  Sutherland 
Highlanders.  Major  the  Honourable  Robert 
White  directed  the  sports  with  greater  success 
than  had  attended  anything  of  the  kind  among 
our  troops  on  this  side  of  Natal. 

The  soldiers  still  filed  into  our  bare  and  dirty 
quarters  asking  for  the  paper,  and  one  of  them 
complained  that  it  was  not  sent  out  to  his  camp, 
and  that  he  had  to  come  in  and  get  it. 
270 


My  Horse  Offered  For  Sale 

"Canadian,  aren't  you?"  Mr.  Kipling  asked, 
^'  from  out  on  the  wheat  belt?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Why,  man,  then  what  are  you  talking 
about?  You'd  ride  in  to  Winnipeg,  twenty 
miles,  to  get  a  paper  if  you  were  at  home." 

Mr.  Kipling  on  this  day  wrote  a  tribute  to 
General  Joubert,  whose  death  had  just  been 
made  known  to  us.  Hours  after  he  wrote  the 
poem,  when  tired  of  waiting  to  see  the  proof, 
he  walked  over  to  the  printing-office  and  set  up 
the  last  line  of  it  at  one  of  the  printers'  cases. 
What  the  printers  thought  of  him  we  never 
knew,  but  he  never  forgot  that  the  first  bit  of 
paper  he  picked  up  from  the  floor  of  the  edi- 
torial room,  when  he  was  looking  for  something 
that  had  fallen  from  the  table,  was  a  violent 
attack  upon  himself  in  a  piece  of  a  Free  State 
newspaper. 

The  only  bit  of  all  our  work  that  our  com- 
positors saved  was  this  poem  to  Joubert.  That 
and  a  portrait  of  the  late  firebrand,  Borcken- 
hagen,  were  the  only  ornaments  they  deemed 
worthy  to  decorate  their  composing  room 
walls. 

There  were  at  least  two  English-speaking 
men  among  them.  I  grant  to  them  the  benefit 
of  the  doubt  whether  my  reflections  should  ex- 
tend to  them  also. 

19  271 


War's  Brighter  Side 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts*  Forces^ 

^  -|  BLOEMFONTEIN,  V       Price 

•        J  FRIDAY,   MARCH   30,    I900.  LOne  Penny. 

LORD  ROBERTS  AND  THE  LATE 
GENERAL  JOUBERT 

Lord  Roberts'  Telegram  of  Sympathy 

Bloemfontein. 
His  Honour  President  Kruger,  President  of  the  South 
African  Republic,  Pretoria. 

(Clear  the  line.)  I  have  just  received  the  news  of 
General  Jouberf  s  death,  and  I  desire  at  once  to  offer 
my  sincere  condolence  to  your  Honour  and  the 
Burghers  of  the  South  African  Republic  on  this 
sad  event.  I  would  ask  you  to  convey  to  General 
Joubert's  family  the  expression  of  my  most  respect- 
ful sympathy  in  their  sad  bereavement,  and  to  assure 
them  alsb  from  me  that  all  ranks  of  Her  Majesty's 
forces  now  serving  in  South  Africa  share  my  feeling 
of  deep  regret  at  the  sudden  and  untimely  end  of 
so  distinguished  a  General  who  devoted  his  life  to 
the  service  of  his  country  and  whose  personal  gal- 
lantry was  only  surpassed  by  his  humane  conduct 
and  chivalrous  bearing  under  all  circumstances. — 
Roberts. 


272 


My  Horse  OfFered  For  Sale 

GENERAL  JOUBERT  ^ 
(Died  March  27,  1900) 

BY   RUDYARD    KIPLING 

With  those  that  bred,  with  those  that  loosed  the 
strife, 

He  had  no  part  whose  hands  were  clear  of  gain; 
But,  subtle,  strong  and  stubborn,  gave  his  life 

To  a  lost  cause,  and  knew  the  gift  was  vain. 

Later  shall  rise  a  People,  sane  and  great. 

Forged  in  strong  fires,  by  equal  war  made  one — 

Telling  old  battles  over  without  hate, 

Not  least  his  namfe  shall  pass  from  sire  to  son. 

He  shall  not  meet  the  onsweep  of  our  van 

In  the  doomed  city  where  we  close  the  score ; 

Yet  o'er  his  grave — his  grave  that  holds  a  Man — 
Our  deep-tongued  guns  shall  answer  his  once 
more! 


(Editorial) 

DEATH  OF  GENERAL  JOUBERT 

No  words  of  ours  are  needed  to  supplement  the 
telegram  of  Lord  Roberts  and  the  three  stanzas  by 
Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling,  which  we  print  to-day, 
upon  the  news  we  have  received  of  General  Jou- 

1  Copyrighted   in   England  and  America ;    used  here  by 
permission. 

273 


War's  Brighter  Side 

bert's  death.  We  feel  that  we  are  but  giving  ex- 
pression to  the  feeHng  of  every  man  in  the  army  of 
occupation  in  expressing  our  most  sincere  regret  in 
hearing  of  the  sudden  decease  of  the  great  leader 
of  our  enemy. 

FABLES  FOR  THE  STAFF  ^ 

BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 

V 

A  General,  having  offered  libations  to  Fortuna, 
went  out  to  fight  a  Battle  in  the  course  of  which  his 
Frontal  Attack  developed  into  a  Rear  Guard  action, 
and  his  left  Flank  became  a  Modulus  of  varying 
Elasticity  for  several  hours,  owing  to  his  right  Flank 
having  wandered  towards  the  Equator. 

The  Enemy  seeing  these  Inexplicable  Evolu- 
tions, were  so  overcome  with  Amazement  that  They 
retired  in  large  Numbers  and  left  the  General  a  com- 
plete Victory. 

A  week  later,  the  General,  learning  from  the 
Reports  of  his  Staff  that  he  was  a  Heaven-born 
Strategist,  diligently  read  a  Book  and  gave  Battle 
upon  the  lines  therein  laid  down. 

After  this  he  was  never  seen  to  smile  but  fre- 
quently heard  to  murmur :  "  If  I  had  only  trusted 
my  bally  Luck  instead  of  a  bally  Book,  I  should 
not  be  now  travelling  first-class  to  Stellenbosch." 

Moral. — Invention  is  a  good  servant,  but  the 
Letter  killeth. 

'  Copyrighted  ;  used  here  by  permission. 


My  Horse  Offered  For  Sale 


A  BRAVE  CANADIAN 

Bloemfontein,  March  2Sth. 
Dear  Sir, — In  answer  to  a  paragraph  appearing 
in  your  paper  of  a  past  date  under  the  heading  of 
"  Acts  of  Bravery  performed  during  the  War,"  allow 
me  to  quote  one  which  I  witnessed  at  Paardeberg 
on  the  morning  of  Cronje's  surrender  on  February 
27th.  Every  one  knows  of  the  gallant  display  made 
by  the  Royal  Canadians  on  that  never-to-be-forgot- 
ten morning,  and  how,  as  daylight  broke,  they  had 
again  occupied  their  trenches,  leaving  sixty  killed 
and  wounded  on  the  field.  As  the  sun  came  up 
behind  the  kopjes,  revealing  once  more  to  Cronje 
and  his  men  the  exact  position  of  our  trenches,  they 
opened  a  heavy  fire  upon  them,  and  woe  to  the  man 
who  was  indiscreet  enough  to  show  his  head  and 
shoulders  over  the  earthworks!  Between  the 
trenches  and  the  Boer  position  lay  Canadian  dead 
and  dying.  About  5.30  a  wounded  man  about  five 
hundred  yards  away  was  seen  to  be  trying  to  make 
for  our  trenches  under  a  heavy  fire,  but  was  at  last 
observed  to  fall.  Now  and  then,  between  the  vol- 
leys, he  was  seen  to  wave  his  hands  as  if  for  assist- 
ance. Suddenly  from  the  left  of  us  a  form  was  seen 
to  climb  the  earthworks  in  front  of  our  trenches, 
jumping  down  to  make  straight  for  the  place  where 
the  wounded  man  lay,  about  ninety  yards  from  the 
Boer  trenches.  Utterly  regardless  of  the  scathing 
fire  which  hissed  about  him,  he  ran  on,  and  at  last 
reached  the  wounded  man  and  tried  to  lift  him,  but 
275 


War's  Brighter  Side 

it  was  too  late,  for  the  poor  fellow  had  breathed  his 
last.  Seeing  it  was  of  no  avail,  his  would-be  rescuer 
walked  back  over  the  ground  he  had  covered,  and 
although  bullets  whistled  around  him  and  tore  up 
the  ground  in  every  direction,  he  coolly  regained 
his  trenches  with  a  pipe  stuck  between  his  teeth.  I 
have  since  ascertained  his  name  was  Private  Thomp- 
son, of  the  Royal  Canadians,  and  although  I  do 
not  know  whether  his  case  is  one  recommended  for 
distinction  or  not,  still  I  have  never  during  the  cam- 
paign seen  a  case  of  such  coolness  and  pluck  as 
that  displayed  by  Private  Thompson.  Consider- 
ing the  galling  fire  that  swept  the  distance  of  four 
or  five  hundred  yards  which  he  covered  in  his  eur 
deavour  to  reach  the  wounded  man,  also  his  close 
proximity  to  the  Boer  trenches,  it  seems  marvellous 
that  he  ever  lived  to  get  within  four  hundred  yards 
of  him,  not  to  mention  getting  back  without  a 
scratch.  His  case  is  one  of  the  most  deserving  of 
recognition,  coming,  as  it  does,  from  amongst  the 
ranks  of  the  gallant  Canadian  Volunteers,  by  whose 
side  we  have  fought  and  marched  since  we  left 
Graspan,  and  than  whom  a  jollier  or  pluckier  lot 
of  boys  never  lived. 

One  of  the  Gordons  who  was  there. 


THE  EMPIRE'S  DEFENDERS 

BY   B.    CHARLES   TUCKER 

See,  they  come  marching  over  the  plain, 
Cheerfully  bearing  their  wounds  and  pain, 
276 


My  Horse  Offered  For  Sale 

Soldiers  and  sailors  alike  to  the  work, 
Never  a  man  of  them  doing  a  shirk. 
These  are  the  men  that  you  owe  a  debt ; 
England,  remember  it;  never  forget. 

Scorched  and  parched  'neath  the  broiling  sun, 
Not  a  word  of  complaint,  work  must  be  done. 
Wounded  and  shattered,  bespattered  with  blood, 
Drinking  of  water  akin  to  mud. 
These  are  the  men  you  owe  a  debt ; 
England,  remember  it ;  never  forget. 

Ponder  it  well  in  your  leisured  ease, 
These,  the  soldiers  of  lands  and  seas, 
Building  the  Empire  hour  by  hour, 
These,  the  foundation  of  all  thy  power, 
These  are  the  men  whom  you  owe  a  debt; 
Empire,  remember;  you  dare  not  forget. 


THE  SILENT  ARMY 

BY    A.    E.    C. 

The  Silent  Army  'as  its  work, 

Duties  that  it  cannot  shirk. 

Six  days  a  week ;  then  there's  kirk 

For  us  in  the  Silent  Army. 
There's  guards  ter  mount,  fatigues  to  do, 
Bread  ter  make  an'  meat  ter  stew. 
If  yer  think  there's  time  ter  write  to  you, 

Well!  strite!  yer  must  be  barmy. 
277 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Yer  says  yer  owns  as  we  can  fight, 
Able  to  read,  but  not  to  write ; 
We  tries  to  fly  our  own  kite, 

Us  chaps  in  the  Silent  Army. 
We're  glad  enough  ter  git  your  print, 
Glad  enough  when  bound  with  lint, 
Y're  dull  if  yer  can't  take  the  'int ; 

Indeed!  yer  must  be  barmy. 

It  isn't  always  that  us  men 
Finds  the  time  to  use  a  pen, 
For  we've  work  to  do,  sir,  when 
We  are  in  the  Silent  Army. 
We  'as  our  duties  to  attend, 
Food  to  cook  and  clothes  to  mend ; 
Arsk  Kiplin',  he's  the  sojers'  friend — 
The  friend  of  the  Silent  Army. 
[The  hint  has  been  taken  as  far  as  the  hospitals 
are  concerned.    They  get  The  Friend  on  applica- 
tion.— The  Eds.] 

GRUMBLES  FROM  THE  RANKS 

That  a  soldier's  life  is  a  merry  one 

Is  what  some  people  say. 
But  when  you're  on  short  rations. 

Well,  it  isn't  half  so  gay ; 
And  you  can't  "  live  fat "  in  Bloemfontein 

Upon  a  bob  a  day. 

Grumble  No.   i. — This  is  a  recognised  fact 
with  bread  at  is.  per  loaf,  tea  at  6d.  per 
cup,  and  sugar  at  is.  6d.  per  lb. 
278 


My  Horse  Offered  For  Sale 

If  youVe  had  a  present  sent  from  home, 

You  can  take  the  tip  from  me, 
It's  been  "  commandeered  "  by  somebody, 

And  it's  one  you'll  never  see. 
So  as  each  mail  arrives  you  ask, 

"  Where  can  that  parcel  be  ?  " 

Grumble  No.  2. — Almost  every  man  has  a 
complaint  to  make  regarding  the  non- 
receipt  of  parcels  despatched  from  home. 

Then  when  you  see  the  water-cart. 

You  rush  up  for  a  drink. 
You're  going  to  get  a  *'  quencher," 

At  least,  that's  what  you  think ; 
But  it's  only  there  for  ornament. 

And  you're  threatened  with  the  "  clink." 

Grumble  No.  3. — According  to  some  authori- 
ties, the  soldier,  like  the  camel,  can  go  for 
lengthened  periods  without  water.  The 
soldier  himself  thinks  otherwise. 

By  night  we  had  to  stand  the  cold. 

By  day  we  stood  the  heat, 
And  we  got  lots  of  duty. 

But  not  very  much  to  eat ; 
We  had  two  biscuits  daily. 

Some  tea  ( ?)  and  half-cooked  meat. 

Grumble  No.  4. — Some  one  having  said  that 
eating  was  a  habit,   it  was  decided  that 
several  experiments  should  be  tried.    The 
279 


War's  Brighter  Side 

first  (half-rations)  having  proved  an  un- 
qualified success,  should  be  followed  by 
another  of  a  more  exhaustive  nature. 
Tommy  suggests  that  this  one  (no  rations 
for  a  fortnight)  should  be  tried  upon  the 
officers. 

We're  rugged  in  appearance, 

Of  a  tint  distinctly  brown. 
We're  bearded  and  we're  dirty, 

As  well  as  broken  down  : 
So  why  the  dickens  don't  they  send 

Our  kit-bags  from  Capetown? 

Grumble   No.    5. — This    is    what    we   would 
like  to  know. 

Plunger. 


280 


CHAPTER    XV 
Contributions  from  Kipling 

At  this  time — on  the  very  night  before  this, 
if  recollection  serves  me  right — I  went  up  to  the 
quarters  of  the  Staats  Artillerie,  and  there  found 
General  Pole-Carew  in  his  headquarters.  It 
was  always  like  a  breath  of  new  life  to  see  him, 
to  hear  his  vigorous  views  on  the  war  he  be- 
lieved in  conducting  against  the  Boers,  and  to 
note  how  thoroughly  he  was  the  master  of  all 
the  information  of  value  that  could  be  obtained 
wherever  he  was. 

His  headquarters — remember  he  was  the 
dandy  of  the  army  as  well  as  one  of  its  shrewdest 
and  bravest  men — was  a  bare-walled  building 
that  a  monk  would  have  considered  cheerless. 
The  dining-room,  where  his  guests  were  re- 
ceived, was  not  as  attractive  as  any  dining-room 
in  any  Tommy's  barracks  at  home.  It  con- 
tained a  little  table  heaped  with  papers  and  a 
large  table  set  with  kitchen  knives  and  forks, 
enamelled  iron  mugs,  and  sparklet  bottles  by 
281 


War's  Brighter  Side 

way  of  combined  service  and  ornament.  I 
stayed  to  dinner  of  beef  and  potatoes,  bread 
and  butter,  and  whisky  and  water,  and  sat  next 
to  Colonel  Crabbe,  of  the  Grenadiers,  with  his 
arm  in  a  sling  from  his  second  wounding  in  the 
war.  A  brave  and  gallant  company  was  there 
— of  beau  sabreurs  and  veterans  who  took  life  as 
it  came  and  enjoyed  its  every  phase. 

Two  titled  ladies  (Lady  Charles  Bentinck 
and  Lady  Edward  Cecil)  had  been  the  last 
guests  of  that  mess.  I  wonder  what  they 
thought  when  they  realised  how  their  idols  of 
the  Guards  were  living.  And  what  they  would 
have  thought  had  they  farther  realised  that 
these  officers  were  really  feeling  up  to  their 
knees  in  clover,  being  vastly  better  ofif  than 
they  had  been  at  any  time  in  the  previous  five 
or  six  months.  When  they  were  enjoying 
the  serious  phases  of  campaigning — out  on  the 
veldt  in  tents,  or  oftener  still  with  no  shelter 
at  all — the  ladies  would  have  found  them  just 
as  spirited  and  gay — except  that  no  ladies  could 
ever  have  found  them  at  all  or  ventured  where 
they  were. 

Those  men  of  the  Guards  have  long  been 
called  the  "  London  Pets "  and  "  stay  at 
homes "  and  "  feather-bed  soldiers,"  but  they 
very  quickly  lived  down  their  nicknames  in 
South  Africa.  There  nobody  petted  them; 
282 


Contributions  from  Kipling 

they  had  no  beds  (or  even  tents)  between  Mod- 
der  of  evil  memory  and  Koomati  Poort  some 
six  or  seven  months  distant,  in  time,  nor  did 
they  manage  to  get  sent  home — or  want  to  do 
so,  either.  Lord!  what  brave  chaps  they  are! 
and  what  fighters!  I  saw  them  fight  at  Bel- 
mont, at  Modder,  and  at  Maghersfontein,  and 
I  know.  Through  all  the  killing  and  wounding 
and  sickness,  the  forty-four  miles  of  marching 
in  one  spell  of  twenty-two  hours,  the  half- 
rations,  the  tropic  heat  and  the  intense  cold, 
the  officers  were  ever  jocular  and  spirited.  One 
said  to  me,  as  he  pointed  at  Maghersfontein 
Kopje,  ''  Set  a  brewery  up  on  top  of  that  and 
my  regiment  will  take  the  place  in  a  romp." 
But  the  most  characteristic  anecdote  I  have  to 
tell  of  one  of  these  West-end  London  dandies  is 
told  by  himself  in  a  letter  he  sent  to  me:  **  It  is 
cold  and  wet  here  now.  I  have  got  a  bad  at- 
tack of  lumbago,  and  it  took  me  ten  minutes  to 
straighten  up  and  get  on  my  feet  when  I  woke 
this  morning.  I  went  off  on  out-post  duty, 
and  some  Boers  began  sniping  at  my  men  until 
we  could  not  put  up  with  it  any  longer,  when  I 
gave  the  order  to  rush  over  to  where  they  were 
and  do  them  up.  The  devils  ran  away  before 
we  could  kill  them.  I  am  sorry  you  are  down 
with  that  leg.  You  should  be  here,  enjoying 
all  the  fun." 

•283 


War's  Brighter  Side 

We  published  the  sixth  of  Mr.  Kipling's 
fables  in  this  number,  among  scores  of  articles 
most  interesting  there  and  then,  but  not  repeat- 
able  to  advantage  here  and  now. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    SATURDAY,    MARCH    3I,    I900. 

FABLES  FOR  THE  STAFF ^ 

BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 

An  Intelligence  Officer,  meeting  a  strayed  Kaffir 
without  visible  Means  of  Subsistence,  reprobated 
him  for  a  Spy  and  Forthwith  cast  him  into  Jail, 
where  he  languished  for  two  Days. 

At  the  Expiration  of  his  Incarceration  the  Kaffir 
fell  into  the  hands  of  a  Discerning  Colonial  who 
filled  him  with  Cape  Smoke  and  engaged  him  in 
idle  Persiflage  for  three  Hours. 

"  My  Word !  "  said  the  Colonial  when  the  grate- 
ful Son  of  Ham  had  departed,  "  that  Ethiop  is 
full  to  the  back  Teeth  of  most  valuable  Informa- 
tion !  Let  us  give  him  a  new  Coat  and  a  Pound  of 
Tobacco.'^ 

"  On  the  Contrary,"  said  the  I.O.,  "  He  is  a 
Wastrel  and  a  Stinker.  He  cannot  reply  to  Direct 
Questions  and  habitually  contradicts  himself." 

*  No.  6  of  the  series.     Copyrighted;  used  here  by  per- 
mission. 

284 


Contributions  from  Kipling 

"  That,"  said  the  Discerning  Colonial,  "  is  just 
It !    I  am  about  to  act  upon  his  Inaccuracies." 

This  the  Colonial  did  with  great  Success,  and 
wiped  up  Seven  of  the  Enemy  advancing  up  a  Spruit 
in  the  Cool  of  the  Evening. 

On  reporting  his  Achievement,  the  Intelligence 
Officer  reported  the  Colonial  for  supplying  the 
Kaffir  with  Illicit  Liquor. 

Moral.    Oh  Caesar! 


KOPJE-BOOK  MAXIMS 

BY   RUDYARD   KIPLING,   PERCIVAL   LANDON,  AND 
A.    H.   GWYNNE 

Various 

You  cannot  argue  with  a  Shell,  a  Mule  or  a  Press 
Censor. 

The  nearer  to  the  Press  Censor  the  further  from 
Truth. 

(N.B. — This  is  generally  guaranteed  by  the  Press 
Censor.) 

It's  a  wise  Field  Marshal  that  knows  his  own 
Generals. 

It's  a  long  front  that  has  no  turning. 

"  A  shell  in  time  saves  nine,"  as  the  4.7  said  when 
it  opened  on  the  sniper. 

"  Heaven  helps  those  who  help  themselves,"  as 

's  Horse  said  when  they  found  the  poultry  yard. 

285 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Providence  and  the  Company  Officer  have  a 
great  deal  to  look  after. 

Between  two  rivers,  drink  Modderietly. 

It's    always    the    next    shell    that    will    do    the 
trick. 

Five  under  cover  is  fifty  in  the  open. 


PRICES  IN  BLOEMFONTEIN 

When  you've  tightened  up  you  waistbelt  just  a  pair 
of  holes  or  so, 
When  you've  tackled  your  last  bit  of  armoured 
"  dufT," 
Then  you  put  your  bally  pipe  on,  and  you  puflf  and 
spit  and  blow. 
And  you  realize  half  ration  ain't  enough. 
You  go  into  the  market  and  you  purchase  lots  of 

grub 
,    Off  the  farmers  whom  friend  Steyn  has  done  a 

scoot  from, 
And  when  you  ask  the  price  of  it,  that's  where  you 
cop  the  rub, 
For  it  takes  away  your  breath  just  like  a  pom- 
pom. 

Duke's  son,  Cook's  son,  all  of  'em  want  their 
scoflf. 
Fifty  thousand  horse  and  foot  struggling  to  get 
some  grub, 

286 


Contributions  from   Kipling 

Each  of  'em  doing  his  country's  work,  and  each 
being  done  in  turn, 
If  you  want  to  buy  things  in  Bloemfontein  you 
must  pay !  pay !  pay ! 

When   they   charge  a   "  bob "   for   hair-cut  and   a 
tanner  for  a  shave. 
It  makes  you  say  things  that  you  didn't  ought, 
And  the  'umble  loaf  of  "  rootey  "  costs  a  tanner,  or 
a  bob. 
Is  this  the  kind  of  sympathy  they're  taught  ? 
There's  a  luxury  called  butter  that  Tommy  likes  to 
buy, 
And  he'll  have  it  if  he's  got  the  oof,  you  bet. 
But  three  bob  a  bloomin'  pound  makes  a  hole  in 
Atkins'  pay 
'Cos  he  ain't  paid  C'lonial  wages  (not  just  yet). 

Clerk's  son.  Grocer's  son,  son  of  a  Haberdasher, 
All  the   Gents  in  Khaki  chucking  their  pelf 
away. 
Each  of  'em  done  his  country's  work, 

It's  hard  to  be  done  in  turn, 
If  you  want  to  buy  grub  in  Bloemfontein  you've 
to  pay !  pay !  pay ! 

When  you've  tightened  up  your  waistbelt  just  a  pair 
of  holes  or  so. 
When  you  lay  yourself  out  flat  and  go  to  sleep. 
Then  you  dream  of  home  and  mother  and  some 
glorious  feasts  to  go. 
And  you  wake  up,  pray,  and  find  you've  done  a 
weep; 

20  287 


War's  Brighter  Side 

For  you've  dreamt  that  bread  and  butter's  gone  up 
3d.  more  in  price, 
(These  loyal  (?)  folks  charge  really  what  they 
choose,  sir) 
Then  you  say, " "  Well,  roll  on,  England,"  where 
there  ain't  no  bloomin'  lice. 
And   where   there's    many   a   cheap   and    comfy 
booser. 

Merchant's  son.  Cook's  son,  sons  of  the  plebs 
galore. 
Rushing,  in  ragged  Khaki,  anxious  to  spend 
their  brass, 
Each  of  'em's  done  his  country's  work,  but  the 
extra  bob  a  day 
Don't  go  far  in  Bloemfontein,  where  you've 
always  to  pay !  pay  !  pay ! 

''  Blobswitch." 


COLONEL  BADEN-POWELL 

BY    M.    A.    P. 

Many  stories  are  being  told  just  now  about 
Colonel  Baden-Powell,  his  wide  range  of  general 
knowledge  and  his  fondness  for  jokes.  He  has 
travelled  a  great  deal,  of  course,  but  his  knowledge, 
acquired  from  reading  and  conversation,  with  parts 
of  the  world  in  which  he  has  never  been,  enabled 
him  to  converse  freely  with  travellers  about  places 
where  they  had  and  he  never  had  been.  And  thus 
he  even  often  made  such  people  "  take  a  back  seat," 
as  he  used  playfully  to  say. 
288 


Contributions  from   Kipling 

He  was  once  introduced  to  an  Australian  ex- 
plorer who  had  explored  the  interior  of  that  con- 
tinent. As  he  had  had  a  hint  from  his  brother, 
the  late  Sir  George  Baden-Powell,  the  day  before, 
"  B.-P."  spent  some  hours  in  the  library  among  the 
books  and  maps  relating  to  the  Australian  interior. 
When  the  explorer  was  introduced,  the  latter  was 
staggered  by  "  B.-P.'s "  salutation,  "  Burrenyap 
walla-walla " — the  ordinary  salutation  of  a  tribe 
of  blacks  up  near  Charlotte  Waters,  in  the  heart  of 
the  *'  Never-Never  "  country.  "  Burrenyap,  Bur- 
renyap !  "  shouted  the  explorer  with  great  delight, 
and  the  two  at  once  fell  into  a  fervid  conversation 
about  old  times  in  the  "  back  blocks." 

When  the  explorer  spoke  of  a  hair-breadth 
escape  from  pursuing  blacks,  of  whom  he  had  to 
shoot  six  before  they  would  stop,  "  B.-P."  followed 
with  an  adventure  of  his  own  in  which  he  was  one 
day  surrounded  in  his  tent  by  an  angry,  howling 
crowd  of  natives — thirty-seven  all  told — who  sought 
his  blood.  He  said  "  Burrenyap  "  to  them,  made 
friendly  signs  about  feeding,  and  offered  to  make 
bread  for  them.  The  blacks  are  very  fond  of  bread, 
wherefore  "  B.-P." — as  he  told  the  open-mouthed 
explorer — made  some  at  once  under  their  eyes,  but 
instead  of  putting  in  baking-powder  he  mixed 
in  some  strychnine.  Result:  Thirty-seven  black 
corpses  in  front  of  the  tent  that  evening,  and  "  B.-P." 
saved  by  the  skin  of  his  teeth!  That  explorer  is 
still  about  London  buying  papers  all  day  long  to 
see  if  there  is.  any  fresh  news  fom  Mafeking.     He 

289 


War's  Brighter  Side 

IS  a  great  believer  in  ''  B.-P.'s "  fertility  of  re- 
source. 

On  one  occasion,  however,  "  B.-P."  got  out  of 
his  depth  when  playing  this  joke.  His  brother 
George  had  asked  a  well-known  author  and  jour- 
nalist to  dinner  at  the  House  of  Commons  and  also 
sent  for  '*  B.-P."  to  come  and  meet  him.  The  au- 
thor in  question  is  a  remarkable  linguist,  especially 
as  regards  the  Pacific,  all  the  many  languages  of 
which  he  speaks  fluently,  from  Hawaiian  down  to 
Maori.  He  had  just  written  a  book  about  Fiji,  so 
''  B.-P.,"  as  usual,  got  himself  up  in  Fiji  and  Figan 
before  the  dinner.  When  they  met,  the  practical 
joker  led  of¥  at  once  with  the  Figan  salutation,  "  Sa 
Yadra,  turaga/'  The  much-travelled  author  re- 
sponded, "  Sa  Yadra,  turaga,"  without  turning  a 
hair,  and  went  through  the  dinner  and  the  evening 
afterwards,  letting  "  B.-P."  tell  him  all  about  Fiji 
and  the  people,  of  cannibalism  and  all  the  rest. 

Before  parting,  he  pulled  the  Captain,  as  he  then 
was,  aside  and  said,  "  Look  here,  sir,  you're  a  man 
of  the  world,  and  a  good  sort,  I  fancy.  You  have 
noticed  that  I  have  never  been  in  Fiji,  although  I 
have  written  that  book  of  personal  experiences 
among  the  natives.  Don't  give  me  away,  will  you  ? 
I  have  to  make  my  living  out  of  this  sort  of  thing, 
and  I  have  an  aged  father  and  mother,  three  maiden 
sisters,  and  a  wife  and  eight  children  to  keep !  " 
"  Right  you  are,  old  man,"  said  "  B.-P.,"  "  I  shall 
never  say  anything  about  it."  The  great  fun  later 
on  was  when  "  B.-P."  accidentally  found  out  the 

290 


Contributions  from  Kipling 

proper  pronunciation  of  "  Sa  Yadra,  turaga,"  which 
is  "  Sa  Yadra,  turanga."  The  Fiji  author  had 
spotted  the  novice  at  once  when  he  uttered  the 
salute,  and  then  ''  played  possum."  "  B.-P."  always 
says  that  the  Polynesian  traveller  with  the  numerous 
wives  and  family  to  keep  was  the  only  man  who 
ever  really  pulled  his  leg ! 


SONS  OF  BRITAIN 

BY    W.    BLELOCK 

When  the  bugle  call  to  battle  sounds 

Afar  in  the  land  of  our  birth, 
In  the  cause  of  race  and  Queen  to  fight, 
We  rise  from  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
Wherever  the  battle  may  be 
We  rally  by  land  and  by  sea 
To  join  in  the  fight  of  the  free. 
And  our  foemen  have  Britons  to  face. 

Chorus  : 

Then  Britain's  sons  again 
Fill  up  the  ranks  with  men. 
Who'll  fight!  who'll  die! 

Whose  battle-cry : 
"  True  Britons  we  remain." 

We  are  sons  of  Britain  every  one 
With  pride  of  the  blood  of  our  race. 

And  we'll  carry  Britain's  story  on 
As  our  fathers  did  in  their  place. 
291 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Whatever  the  work  to  be  done, 
We  seek  a  full  share,  every  one. 
And  fighting  till  victory's  won 
Of  the  burden  and  glory  we  claim. 

Chorus  : 
Then  Britain's  sons  again,  &c. 

The  glorious  deeds  her  great  have  done 

Are  ours,  whether  Saxon  or  Celt, 
As  heirs  of  their  name  and  fame  we  come 
From  snows  and  from  bush  and  from  veldt. 
Our  honour  we'll  ever  keep  bright. 
By  holding  the  front  of  the  fight, 
And  jealously  guarding  the  right 
For  our  sons  and  their  sons  again. 

Chorus  : 
Then  Britain's  sons  again,  &c. 


ORANGE  PEEL 

It  may  interest  our  friends  at  the  Cape  to  know 
that  a  certain  doctor,  who  lives  not  i,ooo  miles  from 
the  Paarl — and  who  came  on  ambulance  business 
to  the  Free  State — was  very  busy  on  his  arrival  here, 
giving  it  out  as  the  news  of  the  day  that  "  officers  of 
the  English  Army  were  busy  with  sjamboks  driving 
Tommy  ofif  the  boats  as  Tommy  did  not  want  to 
fight."  This  statement  was  made  in  the  Bloemfon- 
tein  Club  before  several  witnesses  and  is  quite 
authentic, 

292 


Contributions  from  Kipling 


"  THE  BRAVEST  DEED  " 

It  was  at  the  battle  of  Abraham's  Kraal.  The 
Boers  had  fled  from  a  position  which  we  now  occu- 
pied. They,  in  their  flight,  had  to  cross  the  open 
veldt  to  another  kopje  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from 
the  first.  We  fired  volley  after  volley  into  their 
huddled  masses.  My  old  friend  standing  by  me 
noticed  a  wounded  Boer  trying  to  escape.  He  im- 
mediately dashed  out  amid  a  perfect  hail  of  bullets, 
caught  the  escaping  Boer,  threw  him  across  his 
shoulders  and  dashed  back  to  cover,  the  bullets  fall- 
ing all  round  him.  Unscathed  himself,  his  burden 
was  shot  to  death. 

Private  A.  J.  Hard, 

N.S.W.  Mounted  Infantry,  Australia. 


Dear  Sir, — The  bravest  deed  I  witnessed  while 
with  the  6th  Division  was  the  following: — 

It  was  at  Paardeberg  on  Sunday,  i8th  February, 
about  5  p.m.  We  were  watching  a  hill  overlooking 
Osfontein  farm-house,  when  some  of  the  enemy 
were  seen  to  enter  the  garden  surrounding  that 
house.  So  an  order  was  given  by  Second  Lieu- 
tenant Romilly  for  No.  i  section  of  the  above- 
named  company  to  advance  and  try  and  drive 
them  out.  We  commenced  the  advance  by  short 
rushes,  meanwhile  the  enemy  sending  down  a  few 
shots.  We  succeeded  in  getting  to  within  four 
hundred  yards  of  the  house  when  a  perfect  hail  of 
293 


War's  Brighter  Side 

bullets  came,  both  from  the  house  and  hill.  Then 
the  order  came  to  retire,  as  the  fire  was  becoming 
too  hot  to  attempt  to  get  any  closer.  It  was  during 
this  retirement  that  what  I  saw  happened.  One  of 
our  men,  Pte.  Driscoll,  was  shot  in  the  back,  and 
down  he  fell,  badly  hurt,  when  Second  Lieutenant 
Romilly,  on  seeing  him  fall,  at  once  knelt  down  and 
dressed  his  wound,  doing  it  as  coolly  as  if  on  a 
drawing-room  floor.  After  doing  this,  with  the 
help  of  Pte.  Brown  of  the  same  Company,  he  hur- 
ried the  man  back  to  safer  quarters,  having  to  go 
a  distance  of  over  four  hundred  yards  before  being 
out  of  danger.  The  bullets  fell  all  around  them 
quite  thick.  How  they  managed  to  escape  is  quite 
marvellous,  as  several  bullets  went  through  their 
clothing,  and  one,  as  I  heard  the  officer  say,  went 
between  his  lips — a  close  shave  indeed ! 

Whether  any  recognition  will  be  forthcoming  for 
the  above  gallant  deed,  I  cannot  say,  as  there  were 
none  of  those  who  occupy  higher  positions  to  testify 
as  to  its  correctness ;  but  the  men  certainly  deserve 
something  for  so  brave  a  deed. 

I  am.  Sir,  yours  faithfully, 
An  Eye-Witness. 


294 


CHAPTER    XVI 

Our  Loss  and  the  Army's 

The    Departure    of    Mr.    Kipling    leaving    The 
Friend  vigorous  with  the  Impetus  he  gave  it 

RuDYARD  Kipling  left  Bloemfontein  for 
Capetown  on  the  night  of  April  ist,  in  the  same 
train  that  bore  away  Sir  Alfred  Milner,  Colo- 
nel Hanbury  Williams,  and  Colonel  Girouard. 
The  High  Commissioner  had  been  declared  to 
be  leaving  a  day  or  two  later,  but  started  at  once 
in  order  to  avoid  giving  the  Boers  notice  to  pre- 
pare mischief. 

Of  the  happy  days  of  boyish  delight  we  edi- 
tors spent  with  Mr.  Kipling  many  brought  inci- 
dents too  trifling  to  be  noted  here,  yet  which 
went  to  fill  a  heaping  loving  cup  of  pleasant 
memories.  There  was,  for  instance,  the  day 
when — as  the  reader  may  have  perceived — two 
poems  bore  a  note  of  merely  suggested  com- 
plaint from  the  sick  in  the  hospitals.  That  note 
struck  Mr.  Kipling's  sensibility,  and  he  and  Mr. 
Landon  and  I  seized  armsful  of  Friends  and  set 
out  upon  a  tour  of  the  hospitals — then  far  too 
295 


War's  Brighter  Side 

numerous  in  the  public  and  semi-public  buildings 
of  the  place.  Mr.  Kipling  went  ahead  and  dis- 
tributed the  papers,  and  we  followed  and  whis- 
pered who  he  was  to  the  sufferers  in  the  cots. 
I  never  shall  forget  the  look  that  came  in  each 
man's  eyes,  or  how  every  one  of  them  who  was 
able  raised  himself  upon  an  elbow  to  stare  after 
the  poet  as  he  passed  from  room  to  room. 

''  God  bless  him,"  they  said;  '*  he's  the  sol- 
dier's friend." 

And  surely  a  blessing  proceeded  from  him, 
in  response  to  that  which  he  received,  for,  at  the 
knowledge  of  his  presence,  a  new  vigour  and  a 
sense  of  delight,  such  as  they  had  almost  forgot- 
ten how  to  feel,  came  to  the  sufiferers.  He  had 
nothing  of  the  theatrical  about  him,  made  no 
speeches,  conversed  in  hushed  tones,  halted  no- 
where, posed  not  even  to  the  slightest  extent — 
but  went  on  with  doctor  or  nurse  through  the 
wards,  listening  and  looking.  I  think  that  Mr. 
Landon  and  I  were  more  conscious  of  the  re- 
flection of  his  fame  than  was  he  from  whom  it 
proceeded. 

At  one  stage  of  our  adventure  we  deter- 
mined to  cross  from  one  hospital  to  another, 
over  some  intervening  gardens.  What  an  un- 
suspected wildness  lay  among  those  walled  en- 
closures in  the  confines  of  a  nation's  capital. 
Little  hills,  little  rivers,  marshes,  precipices, 
296 


Our  Loss  and  the  Army's 

walls  on  the  edges  of  tiny  cliffs!  It  proved  a 
better  feat  for  Italian  cavalrymen  than  for  a 
stout  poet,  a  man  with  a  game  leg  and  arms  in 
lint,  and  a  third  one  who  did  not  know  it,  but 
who  was  already  poisoned  with  fever  germs. 
However,  we  had  set  it  for  ourselves  to  do,  and 
we  did  it — without  any  more  serious  mishap 
than  a  kick  in  the  equatorial  region  which  I  be- 
stowed on  the  poet  in  dropping  over  a  wall. 

Mr.  Kipling  had  other  experiences  with  hos- 
pitals when  we  were  with  him  and  when  he  was 
by  himself.  He  was  qualified  to  testify  as  he 
did  before  the  Commission  that  looked  into 
the  manner  in  which  the  care  of  the  sick  and 
wounded  was  bestowed. 

While  I  was  in  Capetown  I  heard  a  story  of 
an  adventure  of  his,  in  which  the  parts  played 
by  him  and  by  the  hospital  people  were  emi- 
nently characteristic  of  both.  To  begin  with 
he  discovered  that  there  were  no  bandages  in 
a  certain  hospital!  The  reader  imagines  that 
such  a  state  of  things  must  have  been  most  ex- 
traordinary— but  it  was  not.  Why  should  we 
conceal  facts  or  mince  words  if  we  are  earnestly 
endeavouring  to  probe  our  own  weaknesses  and 
mend  our  faults?  I  knew  of  hospitals  without 
cots,  without  sheets,  without  pillows,  without 
measuring  glasses,  without  thermometers.  These 
"  hospitals  "  must  have  been  little  more  than 
297 


War's  Brighter  Side 

mere  surgeons  and  staffs,  for  they  applied  to  the 
Red  Cross  people  for  nearly  everything — except 
medicines — which  is  required  in  the  care  of  the 
sick.  Thus  Peter  was  robbed  to  pay  Paul,  for 
Tommy's  ''  comforts "  were  swallowed  up  in 
getting  him  his  necessaries.  This  was  the  case 
in  Kimberley  after  the  relief  of  the  town,  and  it 
was  again  the  case  in  Bloemfontein.  But  to  re- 
turn to  Capetown.  There  Mr.  Kipling  discov- 
ered a  hospital  without  bandages,  in  desperate 
need  of  bandages,  in  a  city  containing  stores  of 
bandages  on  sale  in  many  places. 

Mr.  Kipling  mentioned  to  an  acquaintance 
that  he  was  going  to  supply  that  estabHshment 
with  bandages,  and  this  acquaintance,  who  was 
connected  with  the  Daily  Mail's  ''  Absent  Mind- 
ed Beggar  Fund,"  at  once  offered  to  pay  for  all 
that  Mr.  Kipling  would  buy  and  take  to  the 
hospital.  A  cart  was  quickly  loaded  with  band- 
ages, and  then  Mr.  Kipling  was  told  that  under 
the  army  rules  the  hospital  authorities  could 
not  receive  supplies  from  a  private  individual. 
"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  will  dump  the  packages  on 
the  pavement  before  the  door,  and  then  tell 
them  to  come  out  and  clear  up  the  litter.  They 
will  get  them  into  the  building  that  way  with- 
out tearing  any  red  tape,  I  hope." 

He  drove  off  with  the  bandages,  I  am  told 
by  the  gentleman  who  footed  the  bill,  but  how 
298 


Our  Loss  and  the  Army's 

the  supplies  were  smuggled  in  I  have  never 
heard.  I  suspect  that  the  rule  against  receiv- 
ing supplies  from  civilians  got  a  great  many 
wrenches  and  fractures.  But  for  civilians  such 
as  at  least  one  Red  Cross  Commissioner  of  my 
acquaintance,  Heaven  only  knows  what  these 
hospitals,  that  consisted  of  httle  else  than  a 
corps  of  men,  would  have  been  able  to  do.  I 
asked  my  friend  how  it  could  be  possible  that  an 
arm  of  the  Government  of  Great  Britain  could 
find  itself  in  such  helpless  and  pitiable  plights 
and  he  replied  that  red  tape  was  the  root  of  the 
evil.  Nobody  dared  to  buy  a  measuring  glass 
or  a  pillow-case  or  a  cot  for  fear  that  his  enter- 
prise might  bring  him  a  reprimand  and  his  bill 
might  be  repudiated.  The  hospitals  had  made 
demands  outmeasuring  the  supplies,  or  the  sup- 
plies had  not  come  up  from  the  Cape,  or  to  the 
Cape  from  London.  If  private  generosity  was 
not  appealed  to  circumlocution  must  be  resorted 
to  by  means  of  requisitions  which  would  be 
slowly  forwarded  to  London  and  there  passed 
upon.  By  this  means  the  supplies  would  reach 
the  front  within  three  months  after  the  pa- 
tients were  dead — provided  that  all  should  go 
smoothly  with  the  circumlocution  machinery. 

Mind,  I  know  how  extraordinary,  excessive, 
and  sudden  were  the  demands  made  upon  the 
Medical  Corps  after  such  a  shocking  affair  as 
299 


War's  Brighter  Side 

the  Sunday  fight  at  Paardeberg  and  during  the 
enteric  epidemic  at  Bloemfontein.  I  am  in  no 
position  to  say  that  any  one  was  blameable  or 
that  better  and  ampler  means  of  caring  for  the 
disabled  could  have  been  arranged.  But  let  us 
not  deny  the  facts  or  try  to  deceive  any  one 
with  regard  to  them.  That  is  no  way  for  an 
earnest  and  ambitious  and  healthy  people  to 
meet  an  unpleasant  situation. 

On  the  contrary,  that  is  the  very  way  to 
make  certain  of  a  worse  ''  breakdown  "  of  the 
hospital  service  in  the  next  war. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts'  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    MONDAY,    APRIL    2,    I9OO. 

A  SONG  OF  THE  WHITE  MEN  ^ 

BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 

Now,  this  is  the  cup  the  White  Men  drink 

When  they  go  to  right  a  wrong, 
And  that  is  the  cup  of  the  old  world's  hate — 

Cruel  and  strained  and  strong. 

^  The  poem  by  Rudyard  Kipling  which  we  publish  in  this 
issue  was  written  some  time  ago  to  be  read  at  a  dinner  in 
Canada  and  then  published  in  the  Toronto  Globe.  It  has  never 
been  read  in  public,  and  it  has  never  before  been  published. 
Like  all  his  poems  and  writings,  it  is  for  all  time— as  good 
next  year  as  to-day  and  always  excellent  in  all  seasons.  It 
is  copyrighted  in  England  and  America,  and  used  here  by  Mr. 
Kipling's  permission. 

300 


Our  Loss  and  the  Army's 

We  have  drunk  that  cup— and  a  bitter,  bitter  cup— 

And  tossed  the  dregs  away, 
But  well  for  the  world  when  the  White  Men  drink 

To  the  dawn  of  the  White  Men's  day. 

Now,  this  is  the  road  that  the  White  Men  tread 

When  they  go  to  clean  a  land — 
Iron  underfoot  and  levin  overhead 

And  the  deep  on  either  hand. 
We  have  trod  that  road — and  a  wet  and  windy  road — 

Our  chosen  star  for  guide. 
Oh,  well  for  the  world  when  the  White  Men  tread 

Their  highway  side  by  side. 

Now,  this  is  the  faith  that  the  White  Men  hold 

When  they  build  their  homes  afar  : — 
"  Freedom  for  ourselves  and  freedom  for  our  sons 

And,  failing  freedom.  War." 
We  have  proved  our  faith — bear  witness  to  our  faith, 

Dear  souls  of  freemen  slain ! 
Oh,  well  for  the  world  when  the  White  Men  join 

To  prove  their  faith  again ! 


RUDYARD  KIPLING 

EDITORIAL BY   JULIAN    RALPlT 

Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling  left  Bloemfontein  for 
Capetown  last  night  to  rejoin  his  family  and,  pres- 
ently, to  sail  with  them  to  England.    Believing  that 
the  arrangement  of  terms  of  settlement  with  the 
301 


War's  Brighter  Side 

people  of  the  Boer  Republics  will  be  the  next  im- 
portant work  for  the  British,  he  desires  to  be  in  Lon- 
don, there  to  speak  and  write  for  such  a  finish  to  the 
war  as  he  deems  best  for  Britons  and  Boers,  for 
Africanders,  for  intending  new  settlers,  for  the  future 
quiet  and  prosperity  of  South  Africa,  and  for  the 
honour  and  glory  of  the  Empire. 

The  editors  of  The  Friend  bade  him  God  speed 
and  knew,  when  they  wished  him  health,  prosperity, 
and  a  long  life,  that  there  is  not  a  man  in  the  British 
Army  or  man  or  woman  in  the  Empire  in  whose 
name  they  could  not  have  warmly  and  sincerely 
repeated  their  own  hearts'  utterances. 

Mr.  Kipling  came  to  the  editorial  rooms  of  this 
unique  journal  with  an  offer  to  assist  us  War  Corre- 
spondents who  are  in  charge,  but  he  quickly  and 
easily  led  us  in  the  clearness  of  his  views  upon  the 
paper's  policy,  in  the  wealth  of  talent  he  lavished 
upon  its  columns,  and  in  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
he  collaborated  with  us.  He  evidently  enjoyed  this 
brief  return  to  his  old  profession — as  what  man 
would  not  who  ever  fell  under  its  exciting  and  fasci- 
nating influence?  We  do  not  doubt  that  he  found 
an  added  and  a  powerful  charm  in  the  peculiar  con- 
ditions under  which  we  work^upon  a  journal 
created  by  and  for  a  conquering  army  and  published 
in  a  conquered  capital. 

But  it  is  of  the  pleasure  we  have  known  in  being 
co-workers  with  him  that  we  would  write  if  it  were 
fit  that  we  should  share  our  emotion  with  the  public. 
Pleasure  would  be  a  trifling  word  to  use  were  we  to 

302 


Our  Loss  and  the  Army's 

let  our  emotions  flow.  Honour  and  Pride  were 
better  terms,  expressive  of  our  stronger  feelings. 

We  can  congratulate  the  friends  of  The  Friend 
that  they  shall  read  his  work  again  in  these  columns 
before  he  sails  for  home.  They  have  not  lost  him, 
but  we  have  lost  his  company,  we  who  knew  his 
genius  so  well  yet  could  not  conceive  it  possible 
that  to  his  talent  he  joined  a  personality  so  rich  in 
varied  charms  as  we  have  found  it.  For  we  have 
learned  that  he  is  sweet  to  the  core,  lovable,  mag- 
netic, modest,  and  sincere.  He  has  the  crystal  frank- 
ness and  the  tireless  enthusiasm  of  ever  fresh  and 
unsullied  youth.  Great  as  our  readers  know  him 
to  be  in  literature,  we  know  him  to  be  even  greater 
as  a  man. 

Good  luck  to  RuDYARD  Kipling,  always,  every- 
where, to  the  end — and,  then,  to  eternity. 


THE  LATE  COLONEL  HON.  G.  GOUGH 

BY    BENNET    BURLEIGH 

And  thou  also  hast  gone  over  to  the  majority! 
To  God's  rest,  most  honest  English  gentleman.  I 
saw  thy  bier  go  by  but  the  other  day  in  the  streets 
of  Bloemfontein.  They  gave  thee,  rightly,  a  sol- 
dier's funeral,  and  for  love  of  thee  many  sorrowed 
and  followed  afoot  to  God's  acre.  Troopers  with 
arms  reversed  were  thine  escort,  our  band  played 
the  "  Dead  March  in  Saul,"  and  behind  thy  coffin, 
covered  with  the  Union  Jack  and  set  upon  a  gun- 

21  303 


War's  Brighter  Side 

carriage,  walked  that  British  Paladin,  Field  Marshal 
Lord  Roberts,  accompanied  by  a  long  concourse  of 
all  ranks — comrades  of  thine,  men  of  distinguished 
service.  Veterans  and  juniors  were  there,  and  be- 
sides these,  for  further  token  of  the  affection  and 
esteem  in  which  thou  wert  held  by  all  who  knew 
thee,  a  throng  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the  army. 

All  was  as  it  should  be,  for  we  had  come  to 
say  our  English  "  Goodbye ;  God  be  with  thee." 
Sprung  from  the  loins  of  a  race  of  soldiers,  thou 
wert  all  a  true  soldier  should  be,  tender,  brave,  and 
true,  a  gentleman  above  gentlemen. 

It  seems  but  a  breath  or  so  that  I  was  wont  to 
meet  thee  almost  daily  in  London  at  the  War  Office. 
Lord  Wolseley  will  miss  thee,  for  he  will  never  find 
a  better  Military  Secretary  than  thoU;  Thy  courtesy 
was  uniform  to  all,  thy  frankness  beyond  question, 
as  was  thy  readiness  to  do  kindnesses;  whilst  thy 
fidelity  to  thy  Military  Chief  was  to  thee  a  sacred 
duty. 

Cheery  and  pleasant,  Gough  of  the  14th  Hussars 
was  a  "  beau  sabreur,"  a  man  who  inspired  friend- 
ship and  commanded  respect.  I  could  recall  many 
incidents  in  all  of  which  thou  acquitted  thyself  like 
a  Gough.  There  was  the  morning  of  Abu  Klea  in 
the  Soudan,  after  the  night  of  alarms  that  found  thy 
fortitude  undisturbed.  I  stood  beside  thee  by  the 
screw  guns  when  the  Dervish  bullet  smote  thee  upon 
the  head  and  thou  wert  felled  to  earth  as  with  the 
blow  of  a  hammer.  None  who  saw  thee  as  thou  lay 
unconscious  doubted  but  that  thou  had  been  killed 

304 


Our  Loss  and  the  Army's 

outright.  Even  when  we  learned  that  thou  survived 
we  held  to  the  conviction  that  to  the  weight  of  such 
a  stroke  thou  must  succumb.  But  thou  recovered 
and  we  rejoiced.  Yet  such  a  blow  must  have  left 
its  impress. 

None  can  ever  know  how  in  secret  thou  must 
have  stoically  suffered,  for  thy  patience  was  as  afore, 
unwearied,  thy  fondness  for  work  and  duty  as  untir- 
ing, and  thy  Christian  spirit  as  unbounded.  We,  thy 
friends,  thank  thee  for  thy  life  of  gallant  bearing, 
thy  sympathies,  thy  uncomplaining  bearing  of 
burdens. 

I  deplore  that  I  was  not  permitted  to  meet  thee 
again  in  thy  new  office,  a  member  of  the  Stafif  here 
in  South  Africa,  serving  under  the  worthiest  of 
leaders,  the  chivalrous  Field  Marshal,  Lord  Roberts. 
Thou  art  in  God's  hands,  most  excellent  Gough. 
There  mayst  thou  abide.    So  let  it  be. 


FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE 

BY   TROOPER   G.    SIMES,    ROBERTS'    HORSE 

Not  with  vain  boastfulness,  careless,  unheeding, 
Left  we  our  homes  and  prepared  for  the  fray. 

Sadly  we  answered  our  wives'  gentle  pleading. 
Hearing  the  summons  we  turned  to  obey. 

Not  for  the  worth  of  the  Rand's  golden  treasures. 
Neither  dominion,  or  riches,  or  power, 

Ever  had  moved  us  to  leave  city  pleasures, 
Ever  had  held  us  together  an  hour. 

305 


War's  Brighter  Side 

*Twas  not  for  this  that  we  turned  to  assail  you, 
'Twas  not  for  this  that  we  entered  the  strife. 

Loud  though  your  country  with  tears  may  bewail 
you, 
Can  she  blame  us  for  this  waste  of  young  life  ? 

What  we  have  asked  of  you  that  we  have  given. 

Down  in  the  South  you  may  live  and  be  free. 
When   we   have   gained  that  for  which  we   have 
striven, 

Then  we  will  come  and  will  share  it  with  thee. 

Freedom  you  value  but  hoard  as  a  miser ; 

Freedom  we  value  but  offer  to  all. 
But  of  the  conflict  now  sadder  and  wiser, 

Blame  you  not  us,  but  yourself,  for  your  fall. 


306 


CHAPTER    XVII 
Lord  Stanley,  Journalist 

"  The  Friend  "  of  April  3d  began  its  read- 
ing matter  with  a  leader  by  the  Censor.  When 
he  came  to  look  over  our  proofs  on  that  day  he 
learned  that  we  had  not  been  able  to  find  time 
to  write  an  editorial.  The  value  of  a  series  of 
leading  articles  calculated  either  to  inspire  the 
army  or  to  pacify  or  instruct  the  Boers  had  been 
newly  impressed  upon  us  by  Sir  Alfred  Milner, 
and  had,  without  doubt,  been  discussed  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  Field  Marshal. 

"  I  will  see  if  I  can  write  one,"  said  Lord 
Stanley,  and,  seating  himself  by  the  smaller 
table,  where  pens  and  paper  were  at  hand,  he 
began  and  finished  the  editorial  here  repro- 
duced, without  even  one  of  the  "  false  starts  " 
which  even  we  who  are  most  practised  so  often 
make;  and,  so  far  as  I  recollect,  without  more 
than  two  or  three  erasures  of  words.  This  gave 
me  a  new  view  of  the  capabilities  of  our  Censor 
— a  view  in  which  he  appeared  more  than  ever 
307 


War's  Brighter  Side 

the  fittest  man  in  all  the  army  for  his  exact- 
ing post. 

Perhaps  the  reader  will  see  at  this  date  and 
stage  of  the  discussion  over  the  lessons  of  the 
war  that  the  practical,  and  with  him  wholly- 
original,  words  spoken  by  Lord  Dundonald  in 
London  on  December  15th,  were  in  some  meas- 
ure anticipated  by  Lord  Stanley  in  this  edi- 
torial. Both  these  noblemen  set  the  same  high 
value  upon  the  services  of  the  men  of  Eng- 
land without  regard  to  class.  Lord  Dun- 
donald said  they  would  fight  when  called  upon, 
but  the  best  of  them  would  not  willingly  or 
comfortably  undergo  the  exactions  of  long- 
sustained  military  discipline.  Our  Censor  was, 
at  that  time,  for  making  their  service  an  in- 
stantly ready  organised  source  of  strength  to 
the  Empire. 

Though  there  is  little  to  republish  from  the 
columns  of  The  Friend  of  that  day,  the  news- 
paper was  a  very  complete  and  excellent  colla- 
tion of  news  of  South  Africa,  the  war,  and  the 
world.  On  this  particular  day,  April  3d,  we 
published  one  of  Mr.  G.  W.  Steevens's  artistic 
letters  from  the  Natal  front,  taken  from  the 
Daily  Mail;  we  copied  an  important  article  on 
the  lessons  of  the  war  written  by  Mr.  Amery 
for  the  Times,  and  altogether  the  army  found 
the  number  very  readable. 
308 


Lord  Stanley,  Journalist 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lofd  Roberts*  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    TUESDAY,    APRIL   3,    1900. 

A  LESSON  LEARNED 

BY    LORD    STANLEY 

This  war,  with  the  opportunity  it  has  offered  to 
all  branches  of  the  service  to  see  how  the  military 
machinery  works  when  running  at  high  pressure, 
must  teach  not  only  those  who  are  out  here  super- 
intending and  running  the  machine,  but  also  those 
at  home  who  are  paying  for  its  running,  many  a 
useful  lesson. 

That  the  machine  has  worked  smoothly  nobody 
for  one  minute  will  assert — but  it  certainly  has  run 
sufficiently  smoothly  to  show  that,  with  some  altera- 
tion which  experience  alone  could  suggest  to  be 
desirable,  our  military  engine  may  very  easily  be 
made  as  perfect  as  those  of  the  Continental  Powers 
are  popularly  supposed  to  be. 

But  it  is  not  our  intention  to  show  what  failings 
have  been  discovered,  and  what  lessons  in  manoeu- 
vring— in  transport — in  equipment — are  required  to 
be  learned.  Our  object  to-day  is  to  congratulate 
ourselves  that  one  lesson  at  least  which  had  to  be 
learned  has  been  partially  learned — and  that  is  that 
England  must  look  not  to  one  class  or  two  classes  of 
men  for  her  soldiers  and  sailors,  but  must  be  able  to 
draw  upon  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  the  rich 

309 


War's  Brighter  Side 

alike  with  the  poor,  when  she  has  to  defend  her 
honour  at  home  or  abroad. 

The  first  part  of  the  lesson  has  been  learned,  and 
men  of  all  ranks  in  life  are  vying  with  each  other  in 
their  desire  to  serve  their  country  in  any  capacity, 
however  humble.  This  is  good,  but  the  lesson  has 
not  been  entirely  taken  to  heart  yet.  It  will  not 
do  for  England  to  have  to  wait  for  an  hour  of  danger 
before  these  men  come  to  the  front.  They  must 
always  be  there  at  hand  when  required,  and  it  be- 
hoves the  Government  at  home  to  so  legislate  as 
to  make  permanent  in  the  ranks  of  our  army  those 
classes  of  men  who  are  now  in  it  temporarily. 

Conscription  may  be  a  nasty  pill  for  some  to 
swallow.  But  what  is  in  a  name?  Let  us  call  it 
universal  service,  and  let  us  ask  our  fellow  country- 
men at  home  to  be  prepared  to  emulate  the  example 
of  those  who  are  on  service  here  and  to  be  ready  at 
all  times  and  in  all  places  to  guard  and  defend  the 
national  flag — the  symbol  of  British  prestige  and 
integrity. 

POOR  OLD  CRONJE 

Driven  from  pillar  to  post, 

Battered  with  shot  and  shell, 
Knowing  full  well  his  cause  was  lost, 

When  the  last  of  his  burghers  fell. 
Surrounded  on  every  hand. 

He  and  his  Army  lay. 
Determined  to  make  a  final  stand, 

Like  a  wounded  stag  at  bay. 
310 


Lord  Stanley,  Journalist 

When  the  British  guns  belched  forth, 

The  burghers  held  their  breath, 
And  down  in  the  trenches  deep  they  hid 

From  these  Messengers  of  Death, 
But  the  British  had  the  range. 

And  their  lyddite  and  shrapnel  fell 
Into  their  trenches  till  they  thought 

We'd  opened  the  gates  of  hell. 


Then  Cronje  had  enough. 

And  a  message  came  to  say 
That  he  and  his  army  surrendered. 

And  this  on  Majuba  Day ; 
The  day  that  the  Boers  held 

And  rejoiced  with  might  and  main. 
The  day  they  laid  their  arms  on  the  veldt ; 

The  day  they'll  ne'er  hold  again. 


For  Cronje's  day  is  done. 

The  despot's  rule  is  o'er. 
Their  hell-fire  on  the  Women 

And  the  red-cross  is  no  more. 
For  under  escort  he  jogs  along 

With  never  a  word  to  say ; 
He  and  his  army  four  thousand  strong 

All  bound  for  Table  Bay. 

And  Cronje  can  pray  as  long  as  he  may, 
Till  his  poor  old  knees  are  sore, 

311 


War's  Brighter  Side 

But  it  seems  Lord  Roberts  has  found  the  way 

To  outwit  the  wily  Boer, 
And  St.  Helena  is  his  quarters 
Till  the  Transvaal, War  is  o'er. 

Jas.  L.  Watson, 

1st  Scots  Guards. 


REMARKABLE  COINCIDENCE 

Below  we  give  a  translation  of  a  Dutch  procla- 
mation issued  by  Sir  George  Cathcart  nearly  half 
a  century  ago.  The  Capetown  Argus  says  that  it 
shows  a  marked  similarity  to  Lord  Roberts'  recent 
proclamation  explaining  the  cause  of  the  present 
war,  but  this  we  confess  we  are  not  so  certain  of,  as 
that  the  proclamation  is  of  interest  in  and  for  itself. 

PROCLAMATION 

By  His  Excellency  Lieutenant-General  the  Hon. 
George  Cathcart,  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Col- 
ony of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  in  South  Africa, 
and  Territories  and  Dependencies  thereof,  and  Vice- 
Admiral  of  the  same ;  and  Her  Majesty's  High  Com- 
missioner for  the  execution  and  adjustment  of  affairs 
of  the  Territory  in  South  Africa  bordering  on  and 
annexed  to  the  Eastern  and  Northern  Boundaries 
of  the  said  Colony-,  and  Governor  of  the  Orange 
River  Territory,  &c.,  &c. 

Be  it  hereby  made  known  to  all  leaders  and 
people  of  all  classes  and  nationalities  within  Her 
Majesty's  borders  of  the  Orange  River  Territory 
312 


Lord  Stanley,  Journalist 

that  I  have  come  amongst  you  to  offer  equal  rights 
and  justice  to  all  in  the  name  of  Her  Majesty.  I 
have  come  not  to  make  War,  but  to  settle  all  dis- 
putes and  to  establish  the  blessings  of  Peace. 

I  therefore  instruct  and  command  all  of  you  to 
remain  quiet,  every  one  of  you  in  your  own  terri- 
tory, and  to  await  my  judgment  and  decision. 

I  have  with  me  a  sufficient  number  of  troops  of 
the  Queen  to  command  obedience,  and  to  punish 
severely  and  punctually  any  Leader,  Class,  or  Tribe 
who  would  dare  to  resist  my  lawful  authority. 

All  loyal  subjects  of  Her  Majesty  will  be  pre- 
pared to  join  me,  if  I  deem  it  necessary  to  call  upon 
them  for  co-operation  against  any  stubborn  culprits. 

GOD    SAVE   THE    QUEEN  ! 

Given  under  my  Hand  and  Seal,  at  Graham's 
Town,  this  15th  day  of  November,  1852. 
George  Cathcart, 

Lieut.-General,  Governor. 
By  order  of  His  Excellency  the  Governor, 
Wm.  F.  Liddle, 

Secretary. 


313 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

Our  Christening  Competition 

/  declare  the  Original  War  ended  and  a  New  One 
begun — Enteric's  ravages. 

"  The  Friend  "  of  April  4th  contained  a 
column  of  offers  of  a  new  name  for  the  Orange 
Free  Stae  in  response  to  our  promise  of  a  five 
guinea  prize  to  the  propounder  of  the  most  suit- 
able new  title  for  the  country.  We  published 
a  ballot  form  for  use  by  our  readers  in  voting  for 
whichever  five  of  the  proposed  names  they  pre- 
ferred. All  our  readers  were  asked  to  vote,  and 
it  was  to  be  our  part  to  discover  what  person  was 
the  earliest  to  send  in  either  the  five  most  pop- 
ular names  or  the  greater  number  of  them.  This 
gave  us  such  an  addition  to  our  labours  that  I 
suspect  we  were  all  as  sorry  as  I  know  that  one  of 
us  was  for  having  gone  into  this  gift  enterprise. 

I  was  the  author  of  the  "  leader  "  of  the  day 
upon  "  The  End  of  the  War."  In  this  I  said 
that  the  war  first  planned  by  the  Boers  was  al- 
ready over  and  won  by  the  British.  That  was 
a  war  of  extermination  of  the  British  in  Natal 
3H 


"  AUoa  aal  recht 
omen."— fl/*  Miiio  q<\ 
s  Stale. 


THE  FRIEND 


tht  Birglius  of  Uie  Onoge  Fne  Slate. 


fr  FrM  Suu  M.r  ■«  do  w   ilnoraDllr.   kit   «itfc 


BLOEMFONTEIN.    WEDNESDAY.     APRIL    ♦.     1900 


(Pricb  One  Pen 


Proflaniatie.    I    PROCLAMATION,     f  PROCLAMATION, 


Ad  dC  fiargen  IID  de  Oraoje  Yrij   SlaaLTti  be  BirgherxnicOraBge  Free  state. 

f  H<r  Um  ar«.ou.  tUjalr  tl>  Q 


L:„"r.j;. »  x£sr'i."a."".x;  3  i 


Proclamation. 


>  wi  Ik*   Colonf  ef  tha  C>pe  vf  Qm3 


k»Mdunli«Md«(wroh  trcrii   ^i   volk    kc«fi.  »   t. 


<«   hM  «olk    .«   rttn   »H«»i«^^«p^f.«.tw«;_ 


rfi-;::" 


^bte  £i.^r  met  jta^iTTn^hM  ff 


iAl, 


A«i  de  Burgers  vau  4e  Orauje  VrlJStaat 


IHEHlFOBg 
*^'"<=?li0  0.1K.  VC.  KM  ■b.d.l  .,d  Ci„ 


«>r>t-C|ii<l 


■  "'irj",^  »>U-.,i  lh.lk  Alhcn  f,M  Font  I 


NOTICE. 


N-y;,-. 


.k  ,k  .„  b,l™i  „.  JU  1U~,„  d..  ik  „..,ho,-:,ri 

d.  Koi.r.  ■  d?T"°' '"       '  ""*''«•  X'j'^". 


IkMMica   *aji  »B>|[»  *«tilm  d#«IaMUag  lo  dui  oorTog,  luj. 


IJL^bJ  !tu^'  Sin^  '"" 
BU«TORg 


GOr  SAVE  THE  QUEEN 


Proclamatie. 

MAAI,     H.t  t.ood«k.ly«-h.T«ixlM  •.rdl. 


fcrj  K>rt_F^„,k  »l,p.^, • 

COD  2ISIXE  DC  EOKINGrN 


■nckriA  k  a^t^nnr^M  n.ljn  l/^^Mkwi 


Proclamation. 

VV      w.ll.r,   ef   ,k.  Oru»,"fZ'*.i,   ■Tu"u.7  rL 

NOW  THfUEFOBE, 

1.    FBEDEKICK  SLEIOH    >A«ON     «08tRTS    I 
KHANIIAHAR,  K.P.,  GC.B,  OC.Sl.OC.I.E,  VC    Fi 

»I..MC™imi>di.|tin-Ckidi>(ih.Briliikrott«iii9o. 

'l'.c  «ic»pi«lT.'BHlUb  tno~     aLi  I  dol^Tky  od 
i".«L.il,'dIj°'rf'M.rtk!~I»(K),  ™d.f'  lb.  mblli™  U 


Proclamatie. 

U     MpublK^rd    in  d«  ■•  Gou^rBfm«au  Ca^n/" 


iooid«Ari.x,  ovs 


Proclamatie. 


t^     dM     OrM^     Vrtj     8tl«i, 


BEDEBICK    SLEIGH   BABO.N   KOBtUTS    ,», 
"■    "  "  B ,  O.Cil  I,  O  C.l  E .  V  (■ ,  V,ld„,„. 

■' '     ■-^-    ■»  KrijanKki'x  » 

u.  Ih.id  U>.„,» 
4.    QTiik 


"'■■  °l'**!f  "!l"  ".°"'"  J~~"l~nl  do«r  d<  Bnuch^  i„, 
OraAM  Vnj  Suai,  «Mltr«oqM>  aM  Adk*  «&^J^ 


Proclamation. 


Kenniggfeving". 


NOTICE  I 

I  UABKET  .Ul  k.  b.ld  dailr.  u  tM  ■  . 
^  of  .U  Loal  p>.^«..  ,„k  u  Biai« 
«Jlir,   T.piabl,.,   ».„d.  Ac.   ,1   Ik.    C.p', 

4lpu  All  m.»c,i.»,  rtU  h.  fc,  Ck  ,„j,°' 
f~pU  ,..,  .,,.  f,^,  ,.  u.  MukH..    ^ 


J.  LEVIN  &  Co. 

WHOLESALE  MERCHANTS 

148.  Market  Street. 

Still  Oh  liBiid  Large  and  Varied  Stock 
of  .Soft  Goods,  Boots,  Sc.  Ac. 


KENNIS6EVING! 


«»k,>.,„.  ..  .dl..  .,.„  VHjk.../  , 


FRENCH    TABLK    WATKR. 

VICHY-CELESTINS 

For  Gout.  Diabetes,  and  Urinary  Organs. 


BARLOW  BROS.  &  CO., 

Friiten,  riklnkfr..  4c.,  lit.. 
iMailbmi   SlrMt,    Blocmfuntcin.      Q.FS 


:c.°a:i.p..,„ 


LENNON  LIMITED, 


HAiirr  .QVAit 


The  Front  Page  of  "The  Friend"  of  April  4,  1900. 


Our  Christening  Competition 

and  the  Cape,  which  two  colonies  were  to  be  the 
scene  of  the  fighting,  and  to  be  captured  by  the 
Dutch.  It  was  to  be  fought  out  on  British 
soil  to  the  damage  of  British  property  and  the 
slaughter  of  such  British  as  did  not  flee  from 
their  homes.  That  war  ended  quickly  in  a 
complete  failure.  ''  Now,"  I  continued,  "  an- 
other struggle  is  going  on  to  settle  whether  the 
two  races  are  to  live  in  peace  together,  whether 
the  Boers  are  to  continue  to  obstruct  modern 
progress,  and  whether  white  men  who  live  in 
South  Africa  are  to  enjoy  white  men's  rights 
and  white  men's  liberty." 

We  published  an  interesting  review  of  the 
life  of  the  late  Sir  Donald  Stewart,  who  had  just 
died  in  England. 

Mr.  Landon  wrote  an  editorial  requesting  the 
editors  of  the  mischievous  Capetown  organ  of  the 
Bond,  0ns  Land,  not  to  send  their  wretched 
paper  to  our  ofBce,  and  he  added  that  if  we  could 
have  our  way  no  such  publication  would  exist. 

Mr.  Gwynne  was  the  author  of  the  witty 
paragraph  on  "  How  History  is  Made." 

Enteric,  the  ravages  of  which  were  assuming 
extraordinary  proportions,  now  began  to  exact 
attention  from  our  contributors.  One  of  these 
wrote  recommending  the  transfer  of  enteric 
patients  to  a  building  put  up  as  a  retreat 
for  lepers  six  miles  away,  at  Sydenham.  He 
315 


War's  Brighter  Side 

argued  that  it  was  ''  not  fair  "  to  mass  the  fever 
patients  in  the  buildings  of  Bloemfontein.  I 
cannot  have  seen  this  article  at  the  time,  or  it 
would  have  been  either  left  out  or  answered  by 
me  with  the  indignant  retort  that  the  ''  unfair^ 
ness,"  to  use  too  mild  a  term,  was  in  allowing 
those  of  us  who  were  well  and  strong  to  remain 
in  the  hotels,  all  of  which,  together  with  as 
many  dwelUngs  as  were  needed,  should  have 
been  turned  into  hospitals.  To  leave  the  fever- 
stricken  men  out  in  rain-soaked  tents  set  up  on 
muddy  ground,  where  the  most  ordinary  de- 
mands of  nature  had  to  be  met  at  a  risk  of  death 
— that  was  the  course  that  was  "  not  fair,"  in 
my  way  of  thinking.  I  would  have  had  the  sick 
soldiers  and  the  far  too  vigorous  pro-Boers  of 
Bloemfontein  change  places,  putting  our  ene- 
mies in  the  tents,  if  I  could  have  had  the  order- 
ing of  afifairs. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts^  Forces^ 

161  BLOEMFONTEIN,  T       Price 

'-■  WEDNESDAY,   APRIL  4,    I900.        LOne  Penny. 

TO  THE  INHABITANTS  OF 
BLOEMFONTEIN 

Notice 

There  is  a  great  want  of  bedsteads  for  the  use  of 
the  sick  and  wounded  in  the  various  hospitals  here. 
316 


Our  Christening  Competition 

An  appeal  is  hereby  made  to  the  charity  of  the 
general  public.  All  who  can  possibly  spare  any 
single  bedsteads  with  mattresses  and  pillows  com- 
plete, are  earnestly  requested  to  communicate  with 
Colonel  Stevenson,  Principal  Medical  Officer,  Mait- 
land  Street,  who  will  arrange  to  receive  them. 
Labels,  with  name  and  address  of  owner,  should  be 
affixed  to  each  bedstead  lent,  so  as  to  ensure  its 
return  when  no  longer  required. 

G.  T.  Pretyman, 

Major-General, 
Military  Governor. 
April  3rd. 

PROCLAMATION 

Whereas  :  it  is  deemed  expedient  and  necessary 
for  the  welfare  of  the  Orange  Free  State  that  the 
Railway  Service  shall  be  resumed  in  the  aforesaid 
Republic  as  far  as  circumstances  permit. 

Now   THEREFORE, 

I,  Frederick  Sleigh  Baron  Roberts  of 
Khandahar,  K.P.,  G.C.B.,  G.CS.L,  G.C.LE.,  V.C, 
Field  Marshal  and  Commanding-in-Chief  of  the 
British  forces  in  South  Africa,  do  hereby  appoint 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Edouard  Percy  Cranwill  Gi- 
rouard,  D.S.O.,  Director  of  Railways,  South  African 
Field  Force,  Administrator  of  the  State  Railways  in 
such  portions  of  the  Orange  Free  State  as  have 
been  or  may  hereafter  be  occupied  by  British 
Troops.  And  I  do  hereby  order  that  the  Railway 
and  Railway  Telegraph  Services  shall  be  resumed 

317 


War's  Brighter  Side 

in  the  portions  of  the  aforesaid  RepubHc  already 
referred  to,  from  the  nineteenth  day  of  March,  1900, 
under  the  existing  Laws  and  Conventions  of  the 
Orange  Free  State,  subject  to  such  alterations  as 
may  from  time  to  time  be  notified,  and  to  the  re- 
quirements of  the  army. 

Given    under   my   hand   at    Bloemfontein,   this 
Thirtieth  Day  of  March,  1900. 

GOD    SAVE   THE    QUEEN  ! 

Roberts,  Field-Marshal, 
Commanding-in-Chief  British  Forces 
in  South  Africa. 


"  THE  RUSSIANS  CAPTURE  LONDON  " 

BY    H.    A.    GWYNNE 

Bloemfontein,  Thursday,  received  Friday. 

Kruger  is  reported  to  have  proclaimed  the  an- 
nexation of  the  Free  State  to  the  Transvaal. 

It  is  also  reported  that  he  is  circulating  a  procla- 
mation that  England  is  in  dire  straits,  the  Russians 
have  occupied  London  and  proclaimed  it  Russian 
territory  (Reuter). 

It  is  painful  to  think  that  Lord  Roberts  is  totally 
unaware  that  he  is  fighting  for  a  country  that  has 
ceased  to  exist,  that  St.  Paul's  is  now  a  Greek 
Chapel,  that  the  Thames  is  called  the  Temsky  River, 
that  our  beloved  Queen  is  a  prisoner  at  Moscow, 
and  that  Lord  Salisbury  is  already  trudging  on  the 
318 


Our  Christening  Competition 

weary  snow-bound  way  to  the  mines  at  Kara,  in 
Siberia. 

Why  do  you  laugh  ? 

To  us  it  seems  awful ! 


CAUGHT  BY  THE  BOERS 

After  three  weeks  spent  in  "  bluffing  "  the  Coles- 
berg  Boers,  by  holding  various  kopjes  with  a  half 
company  at  the  bottom,  I  found  myself  one  fine 
February  morning  seized  with  a  sudden  attack  of 
"  Mauseritis,"  and  so  forced  to  watch  the  rest  of  a 
disastrous  rear-guard  action  without  taking  part 
in  it. 

My  company  and  one  other,  having  spent  a  very 
cold  night  on  a  kopje  N.W.  of  Rensburg,  came 
down  at  5  a.m.  to  find  our  other  companies  "  not 
lost  but  gone  before  *'  to  Arundel,  and  a  sudden  and 
unexpected  Boer  cross-fire  brought  on  the  aforesaid 
"  attack."  From  6  to  8  I  lay  watching  little  pufifs 
of  dust  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  caused  by  our 
men  returning  the  fire,  as  a  lot  of  the  Boers  had 
followed  us  up  and  were  lying  down  about  300 
yards  from  me. 

At  8  our  fire  stopped,  and  up  galloped  batches  of 
the  ragged  ruffians,  the  first  two  pointing  Mausers  at 
me  and  asking,  "  Rooinek  wounded  ?  "  My  answer, 
"  Yes,"  seemed  to  relieve  them,  and  they  jumped  of? 
their  horses,  and  quickly  relieving  me  of  carbine 
and  belt  (the  only  things  they  took)  galloped  on. 
22  319 


War's  Brighter  Side 

At  intervals  of  ten  minutes  all  sorts  and  conditions 
followed  them  with,  "Good  morning,  old  chap," 
and  they  seemed  very  sorry  at  seeing  me  wounded. 
At  10,  four  of  them,  under  the  guidance  of  a  com- 
mandant, carried  me  in  a  bit  of  sacking  a  mile  to 
Rensburg  Station,  to  the  **  Station  Commandant's  " 
Room,  and  I  spent  a  happy  day  till  5  p.m.  wath  1 1  of 
our  men,  all  air  prevented  from  coming  in  by  our 
inquisitive  friends,  the  enemy,  who  "  held "  both 
doors  and  windows  with  great  success,  making  the 
place  a  regular  Black  Hole. 

They  seemed  quite  happy,  just  standing  still, 
staring  at  us,  and  never  uttering  a  syllable,  though 
they  would  do  anything  we  asked.  At  last,  aftc'r 
hours  of  waiting,  they  moved  us  to  a  coachhouse 
close  by  and  "  dressed  "  us.  We  stayed  there  till 
5  the  next  day,  and  had  many  interesting  talks  with 
them.  One  old  man  gave  us  a  blessing,  with  "  I 
wish  Chamberlain  was  here  to  see  you  now."  Their 
sole  idea  was  that  Jos.  C.  and  Rhodes  were  entirely 
responsible  for  the  war.  Many  such  questions  as 
"Were  you  compelled  to  fight?"  &c.,  were  asked 
you,  and  a  small  box  of  "  sparklets  "  cartridges  was 
a  source  of  much  wonder.  My  next  move  was  to  an 
empty  store  in  Colesberg,  where  Hofman  (of  the 
Cape  Parliament)  had  a  Russian-German  and  Dutch 
Ambulance  combined  (one  of  his  men  had  been 
fighting  against  us'  and  now,  covered  with  Red 
Crosses,  helped  to  carry  us  about).  I  stayed  there 
a  week,  having  devoured  more  figs  and  grapes  than 
ever  before. 

320 


Our  Christening  Competition 

All  the  English  ladies  and  the  Dutch  Minister 
in  particular  brought  us  fruit,  and  I  should  like 
to  thank  them  personally.  Only  the  Dutch  people 
were  allowed  in  to  see  us,  and  were  very  keen  on 
getting  our  buttons  and  badges  as  keepsakes. 

They  turned  us  out  of  the  field  hospital  one  night 
at  9,  and  we  were  jolted  along  in  buck-waggons 
till  5  the  next  morning,  then  a  halt  of  5  hours,  and 
at  last  we  got  to  Norval's  Pont  at  5  p.m.,  after  the 
worst  journey  I  ever  hope  to  have.  It  was  quite  a 
treat  seeing  trees  again,  as  some  of  the  country  we 
passed  through  was  really  pretty.  Our  ambulance 
train  consisted  of  layers  of  stretchers,  one  above  the 
other,  on  a  large  "  bogey  "  truck.  At  Springfontein, 
we  were  entrusted  to  a  German  ambulance,  from 
Hamburg,  covered  with  crosses,  doctors,  nurses  and 
patient  helps,  but  they  were  very  kind  to  us. 

We  got  news  daily  from  the  station  telegraphist, 
Mr.  Fryer,  and  Mr.  Shipp,  also  employed  on  the 
station,  till  the  escape  from  Pretoria  put  an  end  to 
our  visitors.  The  hospital  was  half  full  of  Boers, 
and  they  seemed  perfectly  happy  sitting  still  the 
whole  day  long  doing  nothing,  but  smoking  hard. 
Two  engines  were  always  left  ready  for  emergency, 
the  line  being  100  yards  away,  so  sleep  at  night  was 
a  matter  of  difficulty.  Just  when  I  was  hoping  we 
should  be  relieved,  they  moved  us  under  the  safe 
keeping  of  a  Bloemfontein  policeman  in  a  gorgeous 
blue  uniform  to  the  Volks  Hospital  here,  passing 
through  hundreds  of  sleeping  burghers  in  the 
station.     Here  we  languished  in  the  utmost  com- 

321 


War's  Brighter  Side   . 

fort,  till  the  famous  Tuesday  when  little  black  specks 
on  the  veldt  and  the  arrival  here  of  **  Bobs  "  made 
our  scarce-believing  eyes  quite  certain  that  we  were 
no  longer  Boer  prisoners.  . 

Anon. 


ENTERIC  FEVER 

BY     AN     ARMY     SURGEON 

No  disease  causes  such  havoc  in  modern  cam- 
paigns as  typhoid  or  enteric  fever,  and  it  becomes 
the  duty  of  every  one  having  authority  to  impress 
this  fact  upon  the  men  committed  to  their  charge. 
More  especially  is  this  duty  imperative  when  troops 
are  on  the  march,  for  many  a  valuable  life  is  thrown 
away  by  the  want  of  the  strong  hand  of  a  wise  dis- 
cipline. When  thirsty,  men  will  drink  anything, 
and  it  is  here  that  good  may  be  done.  It  is  reported 
that  one  regiment  on  the  march  recently  made  the 
use  of  water-bottles  a  matter  of  drill,  the  word  of 
command  being  given  every  hour  for  a  mouthful  of 
water  to  be  drunk.  As  a  result,  men  arrived  in  many 
cases  at  their  bivouac  with  some  water  still  left  from 
their  morning  supply,  without  being  one  whit  more 
thirsty  than  their  neighbours. 

Typhoid  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  is  water- 
borne,  and  hence  the  greatest  care  should  be  taken 
to  avoid  any  dubious  pan  or  pool.  The  only  real 
preventative  of  this  disease  is  to  boil  all  water  used, 
and  although  this  may  be  impracticable  on  service, 
surely  discipline  will  prevent  the  drinking  of  doubt- 

322 


Our  Christening  Competition 

ful  water.  No  medical  observer  can  help  wondering 
why  more  men  were  not  inoculated  on  their  way 
out  from  home.  The  inoculation  does  no  harm,  its 
pain  is  a  small  matter,  and  its  utility  in  modifying 
the  severity  of  the  disease  is  now  well  established. 
Take  a  case  in  point:  two  officers  in  the  same 
regiment,  one  aged  31  and  the  other  24,  contracted 
the  disease  on  the  same  day  from  the  same  source. 
On  the  usual  lines,  the  younger  man  should  have 
had  the  worst  attack,  and  yet,  although  physically 
the  weaker,  he  recovered  and  his  senior  died.  The 
younger  man  had  been  inoculated  but  the  other  had 
not !  Some  will  say  that  it  was  the  senior's  kismet, 
but  let  that  pass.  The  campaign  is  now  well  begun, 
and  it  is  not  too  late  even  now  to  furnish  supplies 
of  lymph  to  Medical  Officers  for  use  with  their  units. 
The  disease  now  so  rife  is  marked  by  an  absence 
of  abdominal  symptoms  and  may,  in  its  early  stage, 
be  overlooked.  It  is  during  this  period  of  uncer- 
tainty that  harm  may  be  done  by  a  solid  diet  and  it 
is  safer  by  far  for  any  one  suspecting  himself  to  be 
suffering  from  influenza  or  other  vague  disease  to 
restrict  himself  for  a  few  days  to  a  milk  diet.  Then 
if  the  febrile  condition  passes  ofif,  no  harm  is  done, 
but  it  is  to  be  feared  that  few  will  take  this  amount 
of  trouble  over  themselves. 


323 


CHAPTER    XIX 

Fooled  by  the  Boers 

British  Leniency  and  Credulity  abused  Past 
Endurance 

For  several  days  The  Friend  has  been 
publishing  this  short  but  imperative  announce- 
ment : — 

NOTICE 

From  to-day  (inclusive)  all  civilians  must  be  in 
their  homes  after  8  p.m.,  unless  provided  with  a 
Special  Pass  allowing  them  to  be  out. 

The  Police  have  orders  to  arrest  all  persons 
breaking  this  rule. 

N.B. — This  does  not  refer  to  civilians  who  are  in 
the  employ  of  the  British  Government,  who  will 
have  a  pass  to  this  effect.    By  order, 

B.  Burnett-Hitchcock,  Lieutenant, 
Asst.  Provost  Marshal  to  Military  Governor. 
Government  Buildings,  April  ist,  1900. 

This  notice  was  but  one  of  many  of  the  signs 
we  gave  forth  that  we  were  being  fooled  by  the 
324 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

tricky  Boers,  and  that  at  last  we  were  com- 
pelled to  admit  it.  Far  back  at  De  Aar  I  had 
seen  how  constitutionally  unsuspicious  was  the 
average  army  officer,  how  certain  he  felt  that, 
because  he  would  not  himself  stoop  to  decep- 
tion and  treachery,  no  one  else  could  miss  the 
ennobHng  contagion  of  his  example;  how  set 
he  was  upon  carrying  leniency  and  magnanimity 
to  unheard  of  lengths,  even  with  this  enemy 
which  neither  deserved  nor  could  appreciate 
such  treatment. 

Even  in  the  days  at  De  Aar  the  Boer  spies 
were  thick  among  us,  pretending  to  have  horses 
or  forage  for  sale,  but  in  reaUty  watching  us, 
and  making  daily  reports  to  the  enemy.  Even 
then  I  begged  my  friends  among  the  officers  to 
observe  what  was  going  on,  and  to  take  steps  to 
keep  all  Dutch-speaking  people  out  of  our  slen- 
derly guarded  great  storage  camp  of  supplies. 
But  the  typical  officer  said  then,  as  he  said  after- 
wards for  months,  "  Oh,  there's  nothing  to 
worry  about.  These  people  are  our  friends.'* 
And  the  occasional  wide-awake  non-typical  offi- 
cer ground  his  teeth  and  whispered,  "  Lord! 
Lord!  how  we  are  being  played  with!  They 
know  everything  about  us  at  every  hour,  in 
every  move — and  we  not  only  know  nothing  of 
them,  but  are  being  fed  up  with  lies." 

Far  from  merely  keeping  the  Dutch  out  of 
325 


War's  Brighter  Side 

our  camps,  we  engaged  the  people  of  the  coun- 
try as  transport  drivers  and  waggon  hands,  and 
even — it  used  to  be  said — let  them  find  their 
way  into  our  corps  of  scouts  and  regimental 
guides.  We  demanded  that  they  should  know 
the  Taal  lingo  and  the  country,  and  the  result 
was  that  when  we  marched  into  a  Boer  village 
or  hamlet  we  saw  our  own  people  hobnobbing 
with  the  residents,  and  asking,  "Where's  Piet? 
How^s  Billy?  How  have  all  of  you  been  get- 
ting on?  " — hail-fellow-w^ell-met  with  these  al- 
leged ''  loyalists,"  the  most  tricky,  shuffling, 
double-eyed,  fence-straddling  wretches  I  have 
ever  met  in  any  of  my  travels.  On  and  on  we 
went,  never  knowing  anything  of  the  Boers,  and 
the  Boers  always  thoroughly  informed  about  us. 
Everywhere  the  slimy,  slippery  ranchers  and 
tavern-keepers  and  merchants  welcomed  us 
wdth  the  heartiest  speech,  and  always  were  we 
fooled  by  it.  They  had  been  born  in  the  coun- 
try, half  the  people  or  more  in  all  that  great 
region  were  out  **on  commando,"  no  man  except 
a  pro-Boer  or  a  born  Boer  could  have  been 
where  we  found  these  double-faced  people,  with 
their  Judas-like  pretence  of  friendship.  It  was 
self-evident  that  they  must  have  been  siding 
with  our  enemies.  Had  they  been  for  us  when 
our  backs  were  turned,  the  Boers  would  have 
offered  them  a  choice  between  joining  their 
326 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

fighting  forces  or  losing  their  property  and  their 
right  to  stay  in  the  land.  Capetown,  Durban, 
and  Port  Elizabeth  were  crowded  by  the  refu- 
gees who  had  taken  an  honest  stand  for  the 
British  side,  and  had  been  obliged  to  leave  their 
homes.  Nothing  of  this  needed  telling;  it  was 
indisputable,  it  was  logical,  it  was  common 
knowledge. 

At  last  we  came  to  fighting  battles  that 
were  surprises — to  meeting  Boer  forces  where 
we  were  told  there  were  no  Boers.  When,  at 
Modder  River,  Mr.  Knox,  of  Renter's,  and  I  saw 
a  large  force  of  Boers  ahead,  and  rode  back  to 
tell  our  friends  in  the  army  what  we  had  seen, 
we  were  informed  that  what  we  announced  was 
ridiculous.  There  were  only  ''  three  hundred 
Boers  within  a  dozen  miles,"  and  these  would  be 
quickly  dislodged  by  our  Ninth  Lancers.  We 
were  to  meet  the  Boers  at  Spytfontein,  miles  and 
miles  a-head.  Nevertheless,  in  fifteen  minutes 
we  began  one  of  the  chief  battles  of  the  war, 
against  the  largest  force  that  had  up  to  that  time 
opposed  our  army. 

The  next  day  saw  us  in  the  village  of  Modder 
River,  welcomed  by  the  men  of  the  place,  whose 
shops  and  taverns  had  been  preserved  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  Boer  army  by — by  what  shall  we 
say?  It  must  have  been  either  by  the  force  of 
comradeship  with  the  Boers  or  by  miraculous 
327 


War's  Brighter  Side 

and  Divine  intervention;  one  or  the  other,  for 
there  is  no  explanation  of  the  phenomenon  out- 
side of  these  two  alternatives.  Did  a  single  man 
from  that  village  manage  to  cross  the  drift  and 
warn  us  that  six  miles  of  trenches  were  ready  to 
be  filled  by  Boers  when  we  should  reach  there? 
And  why  did  no  single  individual  among  all  these 
*'  friends  "  do  us  that  service?  Our  guides  and 
others  rode  far  forward,  and  were  gone  for  hours. 
What  did  they  see  or  find,  and  why  did  they  not 
discover  the  facts? 

We  were  fooled!  fooled!!  fooled!!! 

Without  martial  law  in  force  behind  us,  as  it 
should  have  been  in  force  from  Capetown  to 
Kimberley,  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  war, 
without  maps  of  the  country,  surrounded  by  ma- 
lignant enemies,  who  were  the  more  dangerous 
in  that  they  declared  themselves  friends.  Know- 
ing nothing,  but  betrayed  in  everything  we 
stumbled  on — into  Modder  battle,  up  against 
Maghersfontein  Kopje — fooled  and  tricked  and 
played  with  for  months  on  end. 

We  caught  one  of  two  men  who  fired  at  us 
from  beneath  the  white  flag.  The  other  one  our 
soldiers  killed,  but  the  one  we  caught — what  of 
him?  The  quicker  he  was  hanged  and  left  hang- 
ing on  top  of  a  high  kopje  the  sooner  would  have 
ended  the  contempt  of  the  Boers  for  our  meth- 
ods, and  the  sooner  would  have  come  the  end  of 
328 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

the  war.  But  I  never  was  able  to  learn  that  he 
was  treated  otherwise  than  were  the  rest  of  our 
prisoners. 

When  we  came  to  a  village  like  Modder 
River,  where  the  Boers  had  been  entertained  and 
assisted  in  bridge-destroying  and  trench-dig- 
ging, did  we  reconcentrado  the  little  population? 
What  a  lesson  to  the  disloyal,  what  a  strength  to 
our  arms  that  w^ould  have  been!  We  did 
nothing;  we  left  them  in  their  homes;  we  found 
them  with  Boer  warrants  for  pay  for  forage  on 
their  persons;  we  saw  them  slipping  to  and  from 
our  camp  at  night,  while  by  day  they  loitered 
around  our  headquarters  and  told  us  how  loyal 
they  were.  Fooled  were  we — to  the  brim,  up  to 
our  eyes,  past  all  understanding. 

Lord  Roberts  came,  and  the  Boers  tried  the 
same  old  tricks.  It  is  true  that  he  maintained 
the  same  mistaken  course  of  leniency — making 
war  as  light  as  possible  for  the  Boers  while  they 
heaped  its  terrors  upon  us — but  this  mischiev- 
ous, war-prolonging  policy  was  so  unvarying 
from  Capetown  to  Bloemfontein  that  I  always 
suspected  it  to  have  been  ordered  from  home — 
perhaps  by  whoever  it  was  that  "  preferred  un- 
mounted men  "  to  catch  the  De  Wets  of  the 
veldt.  I  cannot  believe  that  Lord  Roberts 
fought  England's  enemies  in  India  in  that  way, 
or  that  he  is  blamable  for  that  policy  in  South 
329 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Africa.  He  was  fooled,  however,  but  not  as 
others  had  been,  nor  did  he  evince  the  same  fond- 
ness for  being  victimised  as  did  certain  of  his 
subordinates.  From  the  outset  he  took  all  ordi- 
nary precautions  against  treachery  and  double- 
dealing,  and  he  was  the  first  general  to  insist  that 
the  coloured  native  (very  often  a  Boer  spy) 
should  be  kept  under  supervision  and  should  be 
at  least  as  orderly,  civil,  and  well  behaved  as 
white  men  were  required  to  be. 

It  was  while  we  were  at  Bloemfontein  that 
the  Boers  presumed  too  much  upon  our  credu- 
lity and  trustfulness  at  last.  They  did  this  by 
the  most  barefaced  and  wholesale  act  of  hoaxing 
ever  practised  upon  a  modern  army.  We  sent 
out  our  forces,  small  and  large,  over  the  whole 
southern  half  of  the  Free  State,  distributing 
Lord  Roberts'  promise  of  protection  to  all  who 
surrendered  their  arms  and  signed  an  agreement 
to  fight  us  no  more.  Gaily  and  trustingly  our 
troops  went  here  and  there,  and  everywhere  the 
people  came  out  to  meet  them  in  apparently  the 
same  cordial  spirit  of  goodwill.  As  they  handed 
in  their  grandfathers'  old  elephant  rifles  and 
whatever  other  fire-arm  curios  had  been  thrown 
aside  in  their  mud-houses,  they  assured  us  that 
they  were  sick  of  the  war,  that  they  had  been 
tricked  by  Steyn,  that  they  had  only  fought  to 
prevent  the  Transvaalers  from  confiscating  their 
330 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

cattle  and  perhaps  to  save  themselves  from  being 
murdered.  It  was  a  beautiful  spectacle  of  erring- 
brotherhood  repentant — for  those  who  enjoy  be- 
ing played  upon  and  laughed  at. 

Even  while  the  old  junk  was  being  brought 
to  the  railway  we  began  to  hear  that  wherever, 
in  isolated  cases,  a  man  had  honestly  given  up 
his  Mauser  and  signed  the  British  papers  he  was 
being  plundered  and  persecuted  by  his  neigh- 
bours, most  of  whom  were  still  either  fight- 
ing or  awaiting  orders  to  resume  hostilities. 
My  printers  told  me  of  friends  whom  they 
believed  to  have  been  shot  for  failing  to  take 
part  in  the  hoax,  and  for  seriously  giving  up 
the  contest. 

And  at  Ladybrand  the  ''  friendly  "  and  "  re- 
pentant "  Boers,  who  had  been  giving  tea  and 
entertainment  to  General  Broadwood  to  hold  his 
force  until  the  enemy  could  capture  it,  fired  on 
him  from  the  very  houses  in  which  he  had  been 
drinking  tea,  when  he  got  wind  of  the  trap  and 
slipped  away. — to  Sauna's  Post. 

The  air  began  to  fill  with  rumours  of  murder 
and  pillage,  the  veldt  again  resounded  with  the 
hoof-beats  of  fighting  commandos.  We  had  the 
affairs  at  Reddersburg,  Wepener,  Karree  Siding, 
Sauna's  Post.  We  found  that  we  were  brushing 
our  coatsleeves  against  those  of  active  enemies 
in  Bloemfontein — men  who  were  apprising  the 
331 


War's  Brighter  Side 

enemy  of  our  army  movements  and  plans,  who 
were  even  said  to  be  slipping  out  at  night,  armed 
sometimes  with  messages  and  sometimes  with 
Mausers. 

Thus  the  Boer  cunning  over-reached  itself. 
It  was  the  biggest  hoax,  the  climax  of  the  long 
course  of  hoaxing.  It  was  the  first  time  it  had 
been  practised  upon  Lord  Roberts,  but  I  also 
believe  it  was  the  last  time  as  well. 

This  was  the  meaning  of  the  notices  that 
now  began  to  appear  in  different  forms  in  The 
Friend:  that  the  Army  was  to  be  fooled  no 
longer  by  mere  lies  and  Iscariot  handshakings. 
This  was  the  purport  of  Lieutenant  Burnett- 
Hitchcock's  command  that  we  should  all  carry 
passes;  of  Town  Clerk  Roller's  order  for  all  the 
Free  Staters  to  give  an  account  of  their  horses 
with  proofs  of  ownership;  of  General  Kelly's 
command  that  all  troops  "  when  out  in  posi- 
tions "  (around  the  town  and  elsewhere)  *'  should 
invariably  entrench  themselves  .  .  .  being  care- 
ful that  their  flanks  are  secure  " ;  of  Lord  Rob- 
erts's warning  that  our  "  friends  "  and  others 
were  to  be  held  responsible  in  their  persons  and 
property  for  all  wanton  destruction  of  or  damage 
to  public  or  private  property,  which  meant  rail- 
way-wrecking principally. 

The  Army  at  last  was  tired  of  being 
fooled. 

332 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

The  editorial  of  the  day  was  conceived  in  the 
same  spirit  of  resistance  to  a  farther  continuance 
of  the  experiences  of  the  Army  in  the  past.  It 
was  headed  "  British  Leniency,"  and  was,  I  am 
almost  certain,  written  by  Mr.  Gwynne  under 
*'  inspiration." 

What  about  British  leniency  and  long-suffer- 
ing? (the  writer  asked).  Let  it  be  remembered  we 
are  still  an  army  on  active  service  fighting  a  vigor- 
ous enemy.  There  are  people  to  whom  British 
magnanimity  has  always  and  will  always  spell  weak- 
ness. We  cordially  welcome  and  will  gladly  receive 
our  new  fellow-subjects.  We  shall  not  make  our 
welcome  depend  upon  whether  they  fought  against 
us  or  not.  Those  who  stood  in  the  enemy's  trenches 
and  fought  bravely  for  what  they  considered  to 
be  their  liberty  will  soon  be  convinced  that  their 
struggle  was  prompted  by  men  who  knew  not  lib- 
erty, and  that  Great  Britain  will  extend  to  them  a 
degree  of  freedom  which  they  never  knew  before. 
But — and  let  us  here  emphasize  the  **  but  " — we  will 
have  no  half  measures.  We  do  not  ask  the  newly- 
conquered  Free  Staters  to  take  up  arms  against  their 
kinsmen  now  fighting  against  us,  but  we  do  ask  and 
shall  maintain,  with  sternness,  if  necessary,  a  strict 
and  rigid  neutrality  on  the  part  of  those  who  have 
promised  it  by  oath.  Let  all  take  to  heart  this  de- 
cision, that  while  Great  Britain  will  remorselessly 
punish  all  and  any  who  interfere  with  those  who 
claim   her  protection,   so   will   she  as   sternly  and 

333 


War's  Brighter  Side 

severely  bring  heavy  punishment  on  those  who  mis- 
use her  tolerance  and  leniency. 

The  great  extent  of  country  through  w^hich  the 
British  army  has  to  operate  has  made  difficult  to 
afford  that  adequate  protection  to  those  who  have 
laid  down  their  arms,  convinced  that  they  were  risk- 
ing their  lives  uselessly.  In  some  cases  these  men 
have  been  molested  and  ill-treated  by  the  enemy. 
Full  punishment  will  be  meted  out  to  those  who 
have  been  guilty  of  such  acts.  We  have  shown  an 
example  of  leniency  and  tolerance  towards  rebels, 
taken  with  arms  in  their  hand,  which  we  did  expect 
would  have  been  followed  by  those  who  direct  the 
affairs  of  our  enemies,  and  we  shall  exact  of  the 
two  Presidents  a  full  and  complete  reparation  for 
acts  of  cruelty  and  inhumanity  committed  by  those 
under  their  control. 


THE     FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts^  Forces^ 

XT  -,  BLOEMFONTEIN,  V       Price 

"      •     ''^  THURSDAY,   APRIL   5,    1900.  LOne  Penny. 

PROCLAMATION 

The  following  Military  Officers  are  hereby  ap- 
pointed Justices  of  the  Peace  for  the  District  of 
Bloemfontein  during  pleasure : — 

Major-General  G.  T.  Pretyman,  C.B.,  Military 
Governor. 

334 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

Lieutenant-Colonel  C.  V.  F.  Townshend,  C.B., 
D.S.O.,  Assistant  to  Military  Governor. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  B.  E.  B.  Lord  Castletown, 
Special  Service  Officer. 

Major  R.  M.  Poore,  Provost  Marshal. 

Captain  W.  A.  J.  O'Meara,  Chief  Intelligence 
Officer. 

Captain  P.  Holland-Pryor,  D.A.A.,  General. 

Given  under  my  hand  at  Bloemfontein,  this 
Fourth  Day  of  April,  1900. 

GOD    SAVE   THE    QUEEN  ! 

Roberts,  Field  Marshal, 
Commanding-in-Chief  British  Forces 

in  South  Africa. 


SOLDIERS  OF  THE  QUEEN 

BY    FRED    EYRE,    YORKSHIRE    GREEN    HOWARDS 

Far  in  a  land  so  distant, 

Out  on  the  battle-field, 
Raising  the  lance  or  carbine, 

Or  a  sharp-edged  sword  they  wield. 
There  lie  the  British  Soldiers, 

Fighting  for  home  and  Queen, 
Marching  by  day,  and  by  night  as  well, 

Hard  times  are  often  seen. 

Weary  they  tramp  for  their  Country, 
Marching  when  only  half  fed ; 

He'll  rest  where  he  can  when  they're  halted, 
Without  sheet  or  blanket  or  bed. 

23  335 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Dreams  of  sweet  home  and  of  childhood 
Will  pass  through  his  weary  brain. 

Restless  he'll  lie  till  morning, 

Then  he'll  move  on  the  march  again. 

But  what  of  his  wife  and  baby, 

That  he's  left  far  behind  at  home  ? 
Where  is  their  love's  protection  ? 

Where  is  his  heart  to  roam  ? 
Urged  on  by  a  stern  Commander, 

Pushed  by  a  Sergeant  there, 
Bullied  by  bits  of  Lance  Corporals, 

No  wonder  the  poor  soldiers  swear. 

Now  then  he's  fighting  like  blazes, 

The  artillery  guns  loudly  boom. 
His  rifle  comes  up  to  his  shoulder, 

And  another  brave  Boer  meets  his  doom. 
Crack !  crack !  'tis  the  brave  soldier's  music. 

His  spirits  rise  up — he  can  feel. 
It's  this  music  that  raises  his  spirits. 

And  makes  them  as  fearless  as  steel. 

He  is  fighting  for  Queen  and  for  country. 

For  his  dear  little  baby  and  wife. 
He  knows  that  the  foe  must  be  beaten 

And  for  this  end  he'll  risk  his  dear  life. 
At  last  the  day's  fighting  is  over, 

The  wounded  and  the  dead  lie  around, 
All  now  is  quiet  and  peaceful, 

From  the  guns  we  can  hear  not  a  sound. 
336 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

But  his  poor  wounded  comrades  lie  moaning, 

And  gasping  for  life's  loving  breath, 
But  the  great  God  of  Love  calls  their  spirits. 

And  they're  clasped  in  the  cold  arms  of  death. 
All  things  seem  so  strange  and  so  dreary. 

As  sadly  he  gazes  around. 
He  heaves  a  deep  sigh  and  a  tear  dims  his  eye, 

As  he  lies  on  the  cold  sodden  ground. 


NEVO 


But  still  v^e  are  here,  what  is  left  of  us. 

Noble  and  brave  to  be  seen. 
We've  proved  ourselves  brave  British  soldiers, 

Ajtd  willing  to  die  for  our  Queen. 


JOKES  TO  BURN 

To  the  Editors  of  The  Friend. — Sirs, — Is  it  true 
that  a  certain  cavalry  general,  on  finding  good  grass 
for  his  horses  for  the  first  time  at  Koodoesrand, 
exclaimed,  "  By  Jove,  this  will  supply  a  long-veldt 
want "  ? 

That,  to  remind  the  burghers  of  the  disgrace  of 
Bloemfontein's  fall  into  British  hands.  President 
Kruger  has  changed  the  name  of  the  Transvaal 
capital  to  "  Oomfontein  "  ? 

That  the  landdrost  has  caused  to  be  written  on 
the  gates  of  Kroonstad,  "  Nil  sine  Laboere  "  ? 

That  the  Welshman  called  Mr.  Kruger's  son 
"  ap-Paul  "  and  the  son's  father  "  appalling  "  ? 

337 


War's  Brighter  Side 

That  the  man  who  said  that  President  Steyn 
"  showed  no  signs  of  stayin' "  when  we  got  near 
Bloemfontein  was  shot  on  the  spot  by  his  rear- 
rank  man? 

That  "  The  Gay  Lord  Treks  "  and  the  "  Manoeu- 
vres of  Steyn "  will  be  acted  in  London  in  the 
winter  ? 

That,  in  view  of  the  late  change  of  political  opin- 
ion of  the  chief  Bloemfontein  newspaper,  its  name 
is  to  be  changed  to  "  Our  Mutual  Friend  "  ? 

An  early  answer  to  some  of  these  important 
questions  will  oblige.  Yours  truly, 

H.  Atter. 

Glen  Siding,  O.F.S.,  March  30th. 


ARMY  TEMPERANCE 

BY   CHAPLAIN   T.    F.    FAULKNER 

A  most  interesting  meeting  was  held  at  the  Town 
Hall  on  Monday  evening  in  connection  with  the 
"  Army  Temperance  Association,"  an  organisation 
which  owes  its  existence  to  the  efforts  and  personal 
interest  of  Field-Marshal  Lord  Roberts  which,  as 
one  of  the  speakers  on  the  platform  so  rightly  said, 
are  always  exercised  in  everything  which  is  to  the 
benefit  of  the  British  soldier.  As,  therefore,  there 
are  at  present  with  our  troops  at  Bloemfontein  the 
President  and  Founder  of  the  Association,  two 
members  of  the  Executive  Committee,  and  many 

338 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

hundreds  of  members,  it  was  a  happy  conception 
to  call  a  meeting  of  those  interested  in  Temperance 
work  under  the  auspices  of  the  Association,  and  one 
which  commended  itself  to  the  approval  of  the 
Commander-in-Chief,  who,  in  spite  of  many  things 
which  daily  press  upon  him,  readily  consented  to 
preside  and  speak  at  the  meeting. 

Much  is  due  to  the  energy  of  the  Rev.  Canon 
Orford  for  arrangements  made,  and  the  kindness 
of  residents  in  the  city,  all  of  which  tended  greatly 
to  the  success  of  the  meeting.  Disappointments 
were  inevitable.  Sudden  movements  and  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  service  robbed  us  of  the  company  of 
many  who  would  otherwise  have  been  present,  and 
we  missed  the  promised  help  of  the  band  of  ''  The 
Buffs." 

On  the  platform  were,  besides  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  and  his  personal  staff,  the  Very  Rev.  the 
Dean ;  the  Venerable  the  Archdeacon ;  Mr.  Meiring, 
of  the  Customs ;  Mr.  Falck,  of  the  Post-Office ;  the 
Revs.  T.  F.  Faulkner,  F.  B.  N.  Norman-Lee,  and 
H.  T.  Coney,  Chaplains  to  the  Forces ;  Captain  A. 
H.  Webb,  R.A. ;  Mr.  Goddard,  and  R.  Grindel,  Esq., 
2nd  Coldstream  Guards. 

Lord  Roberts  in  his  address  expressed  his  great 
pleasure  in  being  able  to  preside,  and  sketched 
clearly  and  briefly  the  history  of  the  beginning  of 
the  Association  in  India,  its  rapid  growth  in  spite 
of  antagonism,  its  ultimate  and  acknowledged  suc- 
cess, and  eventually  its  introduction  into  England, 
where  now   it  can  boast  of  a  branch   in  almost 

339 


War's  Brighter  Side 

every  regiment  and  depot  in  the  kingdom.  He 
particularly  emphasised  its  being  a  temperance  and 
not  only  a  "  total  abstainer "  society,  and  lastly 
pointed  to  the  work  done  by  the  troops  under  his 
command  during  the  past  few  weeks  as  an  evidence 
of  what  can  be  done  by  temperate,  or  in  this  case 
almost  entire  non-abstaining,  men,  than  whom  (he 
said)  he  had  never  seen  any  to  march  better,  en- 
dure privations  more  contentedly,  or  to  be  better 
behaved. 

Mr.  Lodge  followed  with  an  excellent  song,  ad- 
mirably sung,  which  promptly  elicited  an  "  encore," 
which  he  kindly  granted. 

Rev.  T.  F.  Faulkner  then  gave  a  short  address 
about  the  principles  of  the  Association  and  how 
they  might  afifect  and  be  affected  by  the  exigencies 
of  the  march,  and  expressed  the  feeling  of  gratitude 
and  pleasure  which  all  A.T.A.  members  must  share 
at  the  interest  shown  in  their  undertaking  by  the 
clergy  and  citizens  of  Bloemfontein. 

A  treat  was  then  accorded  to  the  audience  in 
two  songs  sung  by  Miss  Fraser,  who  most  willingly 
responded  to  the  vigorous  appeal  of  our  soldiers. 
Such  singing  by  a  lady  we  had  not  heard  for  a  long 
time,  and  the  men  were  not  slow  to  detect  the 
high  order  of  Miss  Fraser's  powers.  The  Very 
Rev.  the  Dean  gave  a  warm  welcome  as  temper- 
ance workers  in  the  name  of  those  in  Bloemfon- 
tein who  had  the  work  at  heart,  and  spoke  of 
the  encouragement  to  them  which  such  a  meeting 
afforded. 

340 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

An  amusing  song  by  Capt.  Webb,  R.A.,  also 
loudly  encored,  formed  a  pleasing  contrast  in  the 
programme.  Mr.  Lodge  and  Miss  Fraser  were  so 
good  as  to  sing  yet  another  song  each,  much  to 
the  delight  of  our  members.  Two  short  speeches 
by  Mr.  Grindel  and  Capt.  Webb  on  the  subject  of 
the  Association's  worth  and  object  and  the  mem- 
bers' duties  in  connection  with  it,  brought  the  pro- 
gramme to  a  close  save  for  the  few  graceful  words 
spoken  by  Rev.  F.  B.  N.  Norman-Lee,  in  express- 
ing the  thanks  of  the  meeting  to  Lord  Roberts 
for  his  presence,  and  to  those  who  had,  by  their 
kind  help,  conduced  towards  the  success  of  the 
meeting  and  the  pleasure  of  those  who  had  at- 
tended it.  The  Rev.  H.  T.  Coney,  who  had  taken 
an  active  part  in  getting  up  the  meeting,  proved 
himself  an  excellent  accompanist.  The  National 
Anthem  closed  the  proceedings. 


The  same  by  Another  Contributor 

The  presence  of  the  Field  Marshal,  who  may  be 
called  the  father  of  the  Association,  attracted  many 
who,  perhaps,  have  not  been  identified  with  the 
movement.  All  who  attended  were  repaid  by  get- 
ting a  sight  of  the  man  of  the  hour  in  South  Africa, 
and  listening  to  his  speech  of  introduction.  In  well- 
chosen  words  he  gave  a  brief  outline  of  the  founding 
of  the  Association,  its  growth  from  the  Total  Absti- 
nence Association  first  founded  in  India,  and  the 

341 


War's  Brighter  Side 

gradual  broadening  of  its  scope  and  purposes.  He 
told  of  the  influence  of  the  A.T.A.  in  the  army, 
how  it  was  free  from  prejudice  and  sectarian- 
ism, and  he  pointed  out  to  the  soldiers  the  ad- 
vantages of  joining.  Every  member  was  known 
to  his  commanding  officer,  and  for  important 
posts  men  were  often  chosen  because  of  this  mem- 
bership. 

The  soldiers  who  filled  the  body  of  the  hall  dwelt 
on  every  word  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  man  they 
loved.  When  he  spoke  of  the  "  Army  it  was  now 
his  great  honour  to  command,"  the  Field  Marshal 
showed  his  depth  of  feeling  in  his  voice.  He  was 
proud  to  be  the  leader  of  ''  the  best-behaved  army 
in  the  world  " ;  he  spoke  of  the  splendid  way  in 
which  the  troops  had  marched,  of  how  uncom- 
plainingly they  had  endured  the  hardships  of  the 
campaign  and  how  well  they  had  fought.  In  a 
half-joking  manner  he  spoke  of  them  as  having  all 
been  members  of  the  A.T.A.  Modder  River  water 
was  all  they  had  to  drink,  and  sometimes  little  of 
that.  In  a  graceful  way  the  Field  Marshal  thanked 
the  people  of  Bloemfontein  for  the  interest  shown 
by  their  attendance,  and  he  expressed  his  gratitude 
to  Miss  Fraser  and  Mr.  Lodge  for  voluntarily  help- 
ing the  success  of  the  meeting  with  their  songs. 
Constantly  the  soldiers  interrupted  the  speech  with 
applause,  and  when  Lord  Roberts  had  concluded,  it 
was  some  time  before  it  died  away. 


342 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

VOICES   FROM    OVER   THE   SEA 

BY   G.    SIMES,    OF   ROBERTS'S   HORSE 

Though  thirteen  thousand  miles  of  foam 

Divide  us  from  the  land 
That  bred  our  sires,  yet  we  their  sons 

With  you  united  stand, 
And  in  this  year  of  warring  strife 

From  over  all  the  earth 
We  haste  to  help  the  grand  old  land 

That  gave  our  fathers  birth. 

From  inland  plain,  from  mountain  height. 

From  city  and  from  coast. 
From  divers  ends  of  all  the  earth. 

From  the  dear  land  we  boast 
Our  proud  descent ;  and  never  where 

Our  language  may  be  spoken 
Shall  the  strong  tie  that  binds  us  to 

Our  mother  land  be  broken. 


All  round  the  world  we  live  in  lands 

Thy  enterprise  has  won, 
And  when  the  day  with  you  is  past 

With  us  the  rising  sun 
Brings  light  to  carry  on  the  work 

Bequeathed  to  us  by  Thee ; 
We  make  and  shape  an  Empire  that 

Extends  from  sea  to  sea. 

343 


War's  Brighter  Side 

The  same  clear  head,  the  same  firm  tread 

And  independent  air 
That  made  all  other  men  seem  mean 

Who  with  thy  sons  compare ; 
The  same  cool,  prudent  common-sense 

And  strong  decision  that 
Conquer  with  the  tools  of  peace 

Or  weapons  of  defence. 

Nor  Greece,  or  Rome,  or  France,  or  Spain 

Had  at  their  highest  hour 
One-half  thy  Empire,  half  thy  wealth 

Or  world-embracing  power. 
And  not  to  any  race  that  lives 

In  History's  wondrous  story 
Has  ever  been  vouchsafed  on  earth 

Such  universal  glory. 

And  we  thy  sons  as  much  as  those 

Who  stay  at  home  with  thee. 
All  seedlings  planted  far  away 

From  the  ancestral  tree. 
Breed  true  and  show  in  branch  and  sap 

The  same  old  sturdy  merit. 
And  plant  our  British  customs  in 

The  lands  that  we  inherit. 

And  now  from  all  your  distant  lands 

With  haste  we  come  to  show 
We  do  not  wait  for  you  to  ask 

Our  help  against  the  foe, 

344 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

But  gather  round  thee  pleased  to  have 

The  opportunity 
Of  proving  to  the  world  in  arms 

Our  splendid  unity. 


RECENT  ENGAGEMENTS 

BY   MR.    LIONEL   JAMES 
I 

Events  have  followed  each  other  during  the  last 
week  in  such  rapid  succession  that  it  is  impossible  to 
give  more  than  a  short  epitome  of  the  engagements 
at  Karree  Siding  and  Waterfall  Drift.  The  cavalry 
reconnaissance  to  Brandfort  showed  that  there  was 
a  considerable  concentration  of  the  enemy  in  that 
town,  and  as  the  Intelligence  Department  had  in- 
formation that  a  large  force  of  Boers,  re-equipped 
and  remounted,  had  come  down  from  Kroonstadt, 
it  was  deemed  necessary  to  occupy  the  clump  of 
kopjes  in  which  Karee  lies. 

The  enemy  forestalled  this  move,  and  on  27th 
March  the  hills  round  Karee  were  reported  held. 
As  both  flanks  of  the  Karee  position  presented 
ground  over  which  it  was  possible  for  cavalry  to 
work,  a  plan  of  operations  was  made  by  which  it 
was  hoped  that  our  occupation  would  result  in  the 
capture  of  the  enemy's  advance  guard. 

With  this  object  a  Cavalry  division  under  Gen- 
eral French,  a  brigade  of  Mounted  Infantry  and  an 
Infantry  division   under   Lieut.-Gen.   Tucker  con- 

345 


War's  Brighter  Side 

centrated  at  Glen  on  April  28th.  On  the  following 
morning  the  Cavalry  made  a  detour  round  the  right 
of  the  enemy's  position,  the  mounted  Infantry  under 
Lieut.-Col.  Le  Gallais  making  a  similar  movement 
round  the  left.  The  object  of  this  operation  was 
obvious.  The  mounted  Corps  were  to  be  prepared 
to  come  into  action  at  the  rear  of  the  Boer  position 
as  soon  as  General  Tucker  delivered  his  Infantry 
attack. 

At  10  a.m.,  having  received  heHographic  com- 
munication from  Gen.  French,  Gen.  Tucker  put  his 
division  in  motion — he  advanced  it  across  the  four 
miles  of  plain  leading  to  the  foot  of  the  range  of 
kopjes  in  echelon  of  battalions,  Gen.  Chermside's 
Brigade  on  the  right.  General  Wavell's  on  the  left. 
The  position  which  he  essayed  to  attack,  in  the 
vicinity  of  Karee,  may  be  roughly  termed  three 
parallel  ridges  with  a  stretch  of  valley  between  each. 

Contrary  to  all  expectation,  the  first  ridge  was 
found  unoccupied  and  the  infantry  advanced  with- 
out opposition,  until  the  leading  battalion  (Lincolns) 
reached  the  foot  of  the  second  parallel.  Here  they 
were  fired  into  by  a  patrol,  which  itself  fell  back  at 
once.  Under  cover  of  a  few  rounds  from  the  guns 
which  came  into  action  on  the  left  of  the  advance, 
the  second  range  was  occupied.  Beneath  this  lay 
the  plain  of  Karee,  a  fiat  of  about  2,000  yards,  the 
station  standing  in  the  centre. 

At  first  it  was  not  evident  that  the  third  parallel 
of  hills  was  held.  But  as  the  Norfolks,  Lincolns, 
and   six   companies   of  the   King's   Own   Scottish 

346 


Fooled  by  the  Boers 

Borderers  scaled  a  considerable  kopje  which  com- 
manded the  left  of  the  final  parallel,  shrapnel  was 
burst  over  them  from  a  field  gun  which  appeared 
to  be  in  the  valley  below.  The  rest  of  Chermside's 
brigade,  coyered  by  a  few  of  the  C.I.V.,  were  push- 
ing across  the  open.  The  mounted  men  and  two 
companies  of  the  K.O.S.B/s  advanced  to  within 
200  yards  of  the  final  position  before  the  enemy 
declared  their  presence  by  opening  fire.  The  re- 
ception which  the  advanced  line  received  from  the 
marksmen  lining  the  hill  east  and  from  individuals 
ensconced  in  the  bushes  on  the  slopes  of  the  hills 
was  so  sharp  that  the  line  was  checked  and  part  of 
it  forced  to  retire.  The  three  field  batteries  then 
came  into  action  against  a  high  tableland  kop  which 
formed  the  right  of  the  held  position,  the  advance 
remaining  checked  the  while. 

A  battery  was  detached  to  aid  the  right,  as  the 
K.O.S.B.'s  were  suffering  from  a  well-directed  and 
well-ranged  shrapnel  fire.  This  battery  was  not 
able  to  come  into  action,  as  the  teams  were  unable 
to  bring  the  guns  up  the  slope  of  the  position 
chosen.  But  three  of  Wavell's  battalions  were 
brought  across  the  open  and  an  assault  was  at- 
tempted on  the  main  kopje. 

Matters  practically  remained  at  a  deadlock  until 
four  p.m.,  when  the  sound  of  French's  guns  was 
heard  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  position.  Three 
shrapnel  burst  on  the  nek  connecting  the  left  and 
centre  of  the  Boer  position.  The  Mauser  fire 
stopped  as  if  by  magic,  and  the  enemy  vacated. 

347 


War's  Brighter  Side 

The  whole  Hne  then  advanced  and  occupied  the 
enemy's  position,  the  latter  retreating  across  the 
plain  in  the  direction  of  Brandfort,  taking  their 
guns  with  them,  which  they  unlimbered  at  intervals 
to  shell  the  cavalry. 


RICOCHETS 

Lady  Edward  Cecil  and  Lady  Charles  Bentinck 
are  here  on  a  visit. 

An  amusing  incident  occurred  the  other  day  at 
the  Glen.  An  officer  of  one  of  the  Guards  Bat- 
talions, whose  name  resembles  that  of  the  station, 
was  found  bathing  in  the  Modder  by  a  flying  sentry 
stationed  there  to  prevent  the  men.  from  bathing. 
The  sentry  knew  his  duty,  and  unceremoniously 
ordered  the  delinquent  to  come  out  of  the  water, 
whereupon  the  gallant  captain,  in  all  his  nakedness, 
approached  the  bank  and  indignantly  asked  the 
man,  "  Can't  you  see  I  am  an  officer?" 


348 


CHAPTER    XX 

Dr.  a.  Conan  Doyle  Contributes 

And  this  suggests  a  few  remarks  about  the  much- 
discussed  Treatment  of  our  Sick 

The  editorial  in  the  number  of  April  .6th  was 
written  by  me,  with  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Kip- 
ling, who  aided  me  in  phrasing  concisely  and 
with  force  the  declaration  of  British  principles 
in  the  body  of  the  article.  The  manuscript  was 
set  up  and  '*  proved  "  while  he  was  with  us,  and 
then  was  sent  to  the  Residency  in  order  that  the 
authorities  might  look  up  some  one  capable  of 
translating  it  into  the  Taal  language.  It  was 
the  first  of  our  editorials  to  be  printed,  like  Lord 
Roberts's  proclamation,  in  both  tongues.  In 
English  it  was  entitled,  "  To  the  People  of  the 
Free  State,"  and  this  line  was  paralleled  in  our 
columns  with  this  counterpart  in  Taal : 

Aan  Het  Volk  Van  den  (?  Oranje)  Vrij- 
Staat. 

Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle,  who  has  since  written 
so  excellent   a  book  upon   "  The   Great    Boer 
349 


War's  Brighter  Side 

War,"  had  recently  arrived  in  Bloemfontein,  and 
enjoyed  his  first  welcoming  dinner  with  the  edi- 
tors of  The  Friend  at  the  Free  State  Hotel. 
He  took  a  keen  interest  in  our  strange  newspaper 
venture,  and  willingly  wrote  for  us  when  we 
asked  him  to  do  so.  The  ringing,  sturdily- 
phrased  article,  ''  A  First  Impression,"  which  ap- 
peared in  this  number  of  April  6th,  was  by  him. 

But  he  came  at  the  head  of  the  Langman 
Field  Hospital,  and  was,  at  first,  busy  in  estab- 
lishing that  most  excellent,  much  needed  insti- 
tution on  the  cricket-ground;  then  busier  far  in 
looking  after  the  enteric  patients  who  passed  un- 
der his  care  in  numbers  startling  to  record.  It 
fell  to  me  to  write  a  notice  of  his  arrival,  in  which 
I  said — and  from  my  heart — "  We  welcome  him 
to  the  British  Army.  We  had  hoped  to  wel- 
come him  to  the  staff  of  The  Friend,  but,  in 
view  of  the  humane  and  philanthropic  work 
which  busies  him  night  and  day,  we  cannot  be- 
tray such  selfishness  as  to  express  any  disap- 
pointment over  this  loss. 

"  So  true  a  talent  as  his  compels  him  to  write, 
whether  he  will  or  no,  and  he  has  promised  us  a 
thought  or  an  observation,  now  and  then,  out 
of  his  golden  store.  Perhaps  at  the  end  of  the 
war  he  may  give  to  the  world  a  companion  book 
to  his  undying  *  White  Company.'  If  it  is  called 
the  '  Khaki  Company,'  and  deals  with  the  ex- 
350 


9CC/V1    CtH  rtvvcrM    -Oa^cUc^   of    IvtACC    CUkr  W  C^crvjM  A0 

y'you,  (x^d  (JLtAjL  ck.  ^X4M-4.A^4:  fvUxji  —  t*c/K  £».A^d  LuZxx  a 

A  Page  of  Dr.  Conan   Doyle's   "Copy." 


Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  Contributes 

ploits  of  Englishmen  of  to-day,  there  will  be, 
thank  God,  no  lack  of  deeds  of  valour  as  stirring, 
courage  as  calm,  and  warfare  as  enthusiastic  as 
he  found  to  electrify  the  pages  of  the  earlier 
work." 

All  who  were  in  Bloemfontein  spoke  as  highly 
of  the  Langman  Hospital  as  I  have  done,  and 
in  the  same — even  in  a  more  ardent  manner — 
had  we  all  praised  the  Australian  Field  Hospital, 
which  we  got  to  know  before  Lord  Roberts  took 
command.  Especially  did  we  exalt  these  insti- 
tutions in  our  mind,  because  of  the  way  in  which 
we  contrasted  them  with  the  outfits  of  the  R.A. 
Medical  Corps.  We  could  not  then  see  why  it 
was  that  private  individuals  and  colonies  should 
surpass  the  richest  nation  on  earth  in  their 
equipments  for  the  care  of  the  sick  and  wounded, 
or  why  the  richest  nation  on  earth  should  have 
to  rely  on  these  outside  establishments,  and  beg 
of  the  Red  Cross  agents  and  of  the  people  of 
South  Africa  for  the  means  to  complete  the 
equipment  of  her  own  field  hospitals. 

It  is  not  a  pleasant  subject.  It  does  not 
force  itself  into  a  book  upon  "  the  brighter  side 
of  war  "  by  reason  of  any  especial  harmony  with 
that  title.  But  it  suggests  a  story  which  Eng- 
land needs  to  know — which  England  must  wish 
to  know  if  she  means  to  keep  her  place  among 
the  fighting  powers  by  the  only  means  by  which 
24  351 


War's  Brighter  Side 

that  status  can  be  maintained — which  the  stop- 
ping of  every  source  of  weakness  and  the  reform 
of  every  evil  in  her  army.  As  I  said  when  I  was 
urged  to  testify  before  the  Commission  which 
inquired  into  the  subject,  I  did  not  study  the 
matter  when  I  was  with  the  army.  I  was  con- 
scious of  the  general  belief  that  the  hospital 
service  did  not  meet  the  demands  of  the  situa- 
tion either  after  the  awful  losses  at  Paardeberg, 
or,  later,  when  enteric  claimed  between  5,000 
and  7,000  victims  at  Bloemfontein. 

Death  was  thick  in  the  air.  Nearly  every 
correspondent  and  officer  counted  more  friends 
who  were  sick  than  he  had  known  to  be  wounded 
or  killed  in  battle.  The  rains  had  set  in.  The 
veldt  was  like  a  marsh.  The  nights  were  bit- 
terly cold.  The  dead  in  their  blankets  pursued 
us  in  the  streets  of  the  town  and  on  every  ride  we 
took  upon  the  veldt.  My  concern  for  my  son 
took  me  daily  to  the  Volks  Hospital,  where  the 
doctor  and  nurses  said  that  enteric  in  Bloemfon- 
tein took  on  so  mild  a  form  that  they  should 
*'  consider  it  a  lasting  disgrace  to  have  a  patient 
die  of  that  disease,"  and  yet  every  time  I  went 
to  that  hospital  I  heard  from  other  visitors  how 
many  were  the  deaths  in  the  army  hospitals.  I 
heard,  too,  how  bad  were  the  sanitary  arrange- 
ments, how  inefficient  were  the  often  untrained 
"  Tommy  "  nurses,  how  dreadful  were  the  risks 
352 


Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  Contributes 

the  patients  were  obliged  to  take  (in  some 
field  hospitals)  in  obeying  the  commands  of 
nature. 

Now  that  I  have  returned  to  England  I  have 
had  a  high  official  of  the  Medical  Corps  say  to 
me,  ''  It  was  known  beforehand  that  the  service 
must  break  down  in  war  because  it  was  under- 
manned; it  was  never  made  familiar  with  its 
work,  it  had  too  few  reserves  to  draw  upon; 
when  it  was  distended  by  the  sudden  and  ex- 
traordinary demands  of  war  it  had  to  grow  on 
paper,  but  not  in  fit  and  proper  personnel  or 
materiel.'' 

Here,  then,  is  the  basis  for  what  must,  sooner 
or  later,  be  exposed  to  all  the  nation.  Knowing 
that  things  were  amiss,  and  that  they  could  not 
have  been  otherwise,  the  people  need  not  wait 
two  or  five  years  for  all  the  facts,  or  for  the 
creation  of  a  mis-applied  "  sensation."  Let 
them  doggedly  and  firmly  insist  that  the  loud- 
ly promised  reform  of  the  army  shall  be  cer- 
tain to  include  the  establishment  of  a  properly 
trained,  equipped,  and  proportioned  R.A.M.C., 
and  that  the  lingering  prejudice  of  the  regu- 
lar army  ofBcer  against  this  most  useful,  eco- 
nomic, and  essential  corps  shall  vanish  before 
the  will  of  the  people  as  stubble  is  swept  up  by 
a  prairie  fire. 

Mr.  Gwynne  wrote  the  obituary  notice  of 
353 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Archibald  Forbes,  Mr.  Fred  W.  Unger  wrote  a 
descriptive  article  called  "  The  Inexpressible 
Veldt,"  and  we  were  rejoiced  once  again  to  pub- 
lish a  contribution  in  verse  by  Mr.  A.  B.  Pater- 
son,  of  Sydney. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts*  Forces^ 

j^Q       0-,  BLOEMFONTEIN.  T       Price 

'^  FRIDAY,    APRIL  6,    19CX).  LOne  Penny. 


TAKEN  FROM  THE  OFFICE  OF 
"  THE  FRIEND  " 

Monday  or  Tuesday,  a  pair  of  Field  Glasses,  a 
pair  of  Wire  Cutters,  and  Leather  Pouch.  Please 
return  same  and  claim  reward.^ 


NOTICE 


The  time  by  which  Civilians  have  to  be  in  their 
houses  is  extended  to  9  p.m.  on  Sundays,  to  enable 
them  to  return  from  Church. 

B.  Burnett  Hitchcock,  Lieutenant, 
Asst.  Provost-Marshal  to  Military  Gvernor. 
April  6th,  1900. 

^  The  victim  of  this  bold  theft  out  of  our  sanctum  was  Mr. 
James  Barnes,  our  colleague  and  occasional  contributor  and 
assistant. 

354 


Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  Contributes 


THAT  V.C. 

BY    A.    B.    PATERSON 

'Twas  in  the  days  of  front  attack, 

This  glorious  truth  we'd  yet  to  learn  it, 

That  every  "  front "  has  got  a  ''  back," 
And  French  is  just  the  man  to  turn  it. 

A  wounded  soldier  on  the  ground 
Was  lying  fiat  behind  a  hummock ; 

He  proved  the  good  old  proverb  sound, 
"  An  army  travels  on  its  stomach !  " 

He  lay  as  flat  as  any  fish, 

His  nose  had  worn  a  little  furrow, 
He  only  had  one  frantic  wish — 

That  like  an  ant-bear  he  could  burrow. 

The  bullets  whistled  into  space, 

The  pom-pom  gun  kept  up  its  braying. 

The  four-point  seven  suppHed  the  bass ; 
You'd  think  the  Devil's  band  was  playing. 

A  valiant  comrade  crawling  near 

Observed  his  most  supine  behaviour 

And  crawled  towards  him,  "  Eh !  what  cheer ! 
Buck  up,"  says  he,  "  I've  come  to  save  ye ! " 

''  You  get  up  on  my  shoulders,  mate ! 

And  if  we  live  beyond  the  firing, 
ril  get  a  V.C.  sure  as  fate, 

Because  our  blokes  is  all  retiring. 

355 


War's  Brighter  Side 

"  It's  fifty  pound  a  year,"  says  he, 

"  rU  stand  you  lots  of  beer  and  whisky." 

"  No,"  says  the  wounded  man,  ''  not  me, 
I  won't  be  saved ;  it's  far  too  risky ! 

"  I'm  fairly  safe  behind  this  mound, 
I've  worn  a  hole  that  seems  to  fit  me, 
But  if  you  lift  me  off  the  ground 

It's  fifty  pound  to  one  they'll  hit  me !  " 

So  off  towards  the  firing-line 

His  mate  crept  slowly  to  the  rear,  oh ! 
Remarking,  "  What  a  selfish  swine ! 

He  might  have  let  me  be  a  hero !  " 


(Editorial) 
TO  THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  FREE  STATE 

BY    MESSRS.    KIPLING   AND    RALPH 

The  British  have  come  to  stay. 

Our  students  of  political  economy  have  taught 
us  that  the  constitution  and  laws  of  the  old  Free 
State  were  as  nearly  perfect  as  any  that  could  be 
framed  for  a  democracy. 

The  basis  of  the  British  Government  is  that  of  an 
enlightened  and  progressive  democracy. 

It  is  therefore  certain  that  British  rule  will  not 
bring  any  violent  or  revolutionary  changes  to  the 
conditions  under  which  you  citizens  have  been 
living. 

What  are  British  principles  ? 
356 


Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  Contribiites 

The  absolute  independence  of  the  individi^al,  so 
long  as  he  does  not  interfere  with  his  neighbour's 
rights. 

Prompt  and  equal  justice,  before  the  L-^rd,  to 
all  men.  > 

A  natural  and  rooted  antipathy  to  anything 
savouring  of  military  despotism,  in  any  slf^ape  or 
form. 

Absolute  religious  toleration  and  freedom  of 
belief  for  all  peoples. 

Prompt  and  incorruptible  justice  to  all  men  in 
every  walk  of  life. 

The  right  of  every  man  to  make  his  home  his 
castle. 

In  view  of  these  things  and  of  the  unalterable  fact 
that  the  country  has  passed  under  a  new  rule,  why 
should  burghers  hesitate  or  delay  in  making  friends 
with  the  new  situation? 

We  are  your  friends.  We  have  never  felt  un- 
friendly toward  you;  for  even  in  war  we  realised 
that  you  were  deceived  by  unwise  and  selfish  leaders. 

Let  us,  then,  repeat  the  new  motto  of  the  Free 
State,  printed  at  the  head  of  the  newspaper,  "  All  has 
come  right,"  for  we  are  certain  that  as  soon  as  your 
people  realise  what  is  to  be  the  new  rule  under 
which  you  are  to  live,  you  will  know  and  acknowl- 
edge that  the  right  has  prevailed,  and  that  never 
again  shall  you  stand  in  fear  of  a  military  oligarchy 
like  the  Transvaal;  or  of  tyranny  or  injustice  in 
any  form. 


357 


I      War's  Brighter  Side 

A  FIRST  IMPRESSION^ 

BY  A.  CONAN  DOYLE 

It  '«vas  only  Smith-Dorrien's  Brigade  marching 
into  Bioemfontein,  but  if  it  could  have  been  passed, 
just  as  it  was,  down  Piccadilly  and  the  Strand  it 
would  have  driven  London  crazy.  I  got  down  from 
the  truck '  which  we  were  unloading  and  watched 
them,  the  ragged,  bearded,  fierce-eyed  infantry, 
straggling  along  under  their  cloud  of  dust.  Who 
could  conceive,  who  has  seen  the  prim  soldier  of 
peace,  that  he  could  so  quickly  transform  himself 
into  this  grim,  virile  barbarian?  Bulldog  faces, 
hawk  faces,  hungry  wolf  faces,  every  sort  of  face 
except  a  weak  one.  Here  and  there  a  reeking  pipe, 
here  and  there  a  man  who  smiled,  but  the  most 
have  their  swarthy  faces  leaned  a  little  forward,  their 
eyes  steadfast,  their  features  impassive  but  resolute. 
Baggage  waggons  were  passing,  the  mules  all  skin 
and  ribs,  with  the  escort  tramping  beside  the  wheels. 
Here  are  a  clump  of  Highlanders,  their  workman- 
like aprons  in  front,  their  keen  faces  burned  black 
with  months  of  the  veldt. 

It  is  an  honoured  name  that  they  bear  on  their 
shoulder-straps.  "  Good  old  Gordons !  "  I  cried  as 
they  passed  me.  The  sergeant  glanced  at  the  dirty 
enthusiast  in  the  undershirt.  **  What  cheer,  matey !  " 
he  cried,  and  his  men  squared  their  shoulders  and 
put  a  touch  of  ginger  into  their  stride.  Here  are  a 
clump  of  Mounted  Infantry,  a  grizzled  fellow  like  a 

^  Copyrighted.     Used  here  with  the  author's  permission. 

358 


Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  Contributes 

fierce  old  eagle  at  the  head  of  them.  Some  are 
maned  like  lions,  some  have  young,  keen  faces,  but 
all  leave  an  impression  of  familiarity  upon  me.  And 
yet  I  have  not  seen  irregular  British  cavalry  before. 
Why  should  I  be  so  familiar  with  this  loose-limbed, 
head-erect,  swaggering  type ;  of  course  it  is  the 
American  cow-boy  over  again.  Strange  that  a  few 
months  of  the  veldt  has  produced  exactly  the  same 
man  that  springs  from  the  western  prairie.  But  these 
men  are  warriors  in  the  midst  of  war.  Their  eyes  are 
hard  and  quick.  They  have  the  gaunt,  intent  look  of 
men  who  live  always  under  the  shadow  of  danger. 
What  splendid  fellows  there  are  among  them  ! 

Here  is  one  who  hails  me;  the  last  time  I  saw 
him  we  put  on  seventy  runs  together  when  they  were 
rather  badly  needed,  and  here  we  are,  partners  in 
quite  another  game.  Here  is  a  man  of  fortune, 
young,  handsome,  the  world  at  his  feet,  he  comes 
out  and  throws  himself  into  the  thick  of  it.  He  is  a 
great  heavy-game  shot,  and  has  brought  two  other 
*'  dangerous  men  "  out  with  him.  Next  him  is  an 
East  London  farmer,  next  him  a  fighting  tea-planter 
of  Ceylon,  next  him  a  sporting  baronet,  next  him  a- 
journalist,  next  him  a  cricketer,  whose  name  is  a 
household  word.  Those  are  the  men  who  press  into 
the  skirmish-line  of  England's  battle. 

And  here  are  other  men  again,  taller  and  sturdier 
than  infantry  of  the  line,  grim,  solid  men,  as  straight 
as  poplars.  There  is  a  maple-leaf,  I  think,  upon 
their  shoulder  straps,  and  a  British  brigade  is  glad 
enough  to  have  those  maples  beside  them.      For 

359 


War's  Brighter  Side 

these  are  the  Canadians,  the  men  of  Paardeberg,  and 
there  behind  them  are  their  comrades  in  glory,  the 
Shropshire  Light  Infantry,  sHnging  along  with  a 
touch  of  the  spirit  of  their  grand  sporting  colonel, 
the  man  who  at  forty-five  is  still  the  racquet 
champion  of  the  British  army.  You  see  the  dirty 
private  with  the  rifle  under  his  arm  and  the  skin 
hanging  from  his  nose.  There  are  two  little  stars 
upon  his  strained  shoulders,  if  you  could  see  them 
under  the  dirt.  That  is  the  dandy  captain  who 
used  to  grumble  about  the  food  on  the  P.  and  O. 
''  Nothing  fit  to  eat,"  he  used  to  cry  as  he  glanced 
at  his  menu.  I  wonder  what  he  would  say  now? 
Well,  he  stands  for  his  country,  and  England  also 
may  be  a  little  less  coddled  and  a  little  more  adaptive 
before  these  brave,  brave  sons  of  hers  have  hoisted 
her  flag  over  the  "  raad  zaal  "  of  Pretoria. 


THE  MODERATE  DRINKER'S  LAMENT 

BY    MARK   THYME 

(From  the  Household  Brigade  Magazine) 

WITH    APOLOGIES   TO    RUDYARD    KIPLING. 

When  you've  done  your  meat  and  jipper — when 
you've  'ad  your  go  o'  beer — 
When  your  duff  'as  filled  the  corners  of  your 
shape — 
P'raps  you'll  kindly,  spare  some  sympathy,  and  drop 
a  silent  tear 
For  a  gentleman  in  khaki  at  the  Cape. 
'E's  an  absent-bodied  beggar — as  it's  needless  to 
relate — 

360 


Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  Contributes 

An'  'is  most  frequented  pub  '11  fail  to  find  him, 
For  'e  doesn't  get  a  chance  to  chalk  'is  drinks  up  on 
a  slate 
'Cause   'e's   left   Three-thick   and    Drug-'ole   far 
behind  'im. 

Lime-juice  mixed  with  water  the  colour  of  mud 

{Fifty  thousand  'orse  and  foot ^  moderate  drinkers  we), 

Bully  beef  and  rooty,  and  where  shall  we  find  a  spud  2 
Pass  your  tin,  for  there's  nothing  to  drink  but  tea, 
tea,  tea  I 

Now  we  falls  in  of  a  mornin',  an'  we  knows  there's 
work  to  do 
Simultaneous  with  the  risin'  of  the  sun ; 
We  can  see  'em  on  the  kopjes,  and  their  numbers 
isn't  few. 
An'  it's  more  than  rather  likely  there's  a  gun. 
When  we  get  within  ''  fixed  sights  "  it's  ten  to  one 
the  blighter's  gone, 
And  an  absent-bodied  beggar  we  shall  find  'im, 
For  'e  mounts  'is  'orse  an'  ofifs  it  when  'e  finds  us 
comin'  on, 
An'  'e  never  leaves  a  drop  o'  drink  be'ind  'im. 

File  arins  !  Lie  down  !  Now  let  the  Transport  come  ! 

{Am  L  \mgry  and  thirsty  ?  Wait  till  I  let  you  see  !) 
Bully  beef  and  rooty,  and  somebody's  pinched  my  rum. 

Pass  your  tin,  for  there's  nothing  to  drink  but  tea, 
tea,  tea  ! 

There's  a  chap  called  Wilfrid  Lawson  as  is  always 
on  the  squeak, 
An'  'e  turns  the  liquor  question  inside  out ; 

361 


War's  Brighter  Side 

But  a  bloke  can  do  a  gallon — if  the  tiddley's  fairly 
weak — 
Without  actually  going  on  the  shout. 
But  the  absent-bodied  tipper  feels  a  temporary  check 
When  'e  tastes  a  kind  of  something  to  remind  him, 
There's  a  Boer  up  the  river  with  a  stone  around  'is 
neck 
'As  a  filter  what  old  Cronje's  left  be'ind  'im. 

Fill  mine !  Mine  too !  [Smells  like  a  bloomin'  drain!) 
Fill  at  the  nearest  water ^  spite  of  the  M.F.P, 

Bully  beef  and  rooty ^  and  something's  give  me  a  pain^ 
Pass  your  tin,  for  there's  nothing  to  drink  but  tea, 
tea,  tea! 

Don't  you  fancy  I'm  a-grousin'.    You  can  look  me 
in  the  face 
i\n'  judge  if  I'm  a  coward  or  a  cur, 
When  I  tells  you  'ow  I  scrambled  up  each  blood-an'- 
thunder  place 
Without  any  'esitation  or  demur. 
Still,   your   absent-bodied   comrade's   got   a   thirst 
what's  run  to  waste, 
And   'e'll   show   you   in   the   future,   when   you 
find  'im 
Back  in  Wellington  or  Chelsea,  as  'e's  not  forgot  the 
taste 
Of  the  beer  what  'e's  at  present  left  be'ind  'im. 

Wayo  !  'Fre's  luck  !  Drink  to  your  sweet- eart  dear 

{Fifty  thousand  'orse  and  foot,  moderate  drinkers  we), 
Wait  till  the  war  is  over,  then  for  the  pint  o'  beer, 
Pass  your  tin,  for  there's  nothing  to  drink  but  tea, 
tea,  tea  ! 

^62 


CHAPTER    XXI 

Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes 

A  chapter  in  which  zve  also  tell  of  a  modest  Prince 
and  a  gallant  Adventurer 

*'  The  Friend  "  contained  notices  of  Kruger 
sovereigns  and  Transvaal  pennies  for  sale,  of 
Boer  rifles  and  saddles,  but  none  of  the  postage 
stamps  of  the  former  Free  State  or  the  newly 
surcharged  ones  in  use  by  the  army.  Though 
Transvaal  pennies  fetched  twenty-five  shillings 
and  were  in  great  demand,  the  real  enthusiasm 
of  collectors  was  for  postage  stamps,  and  ofHcers 
and  others  were  busy  as  bees  buying  stamps  and 
having  them  erased  to  make  them  the  more  val- 
uable. 

South  Africa  is  as  bare  and  barren  a  place 
for  collectors,  and  even  for  the  modest  traveller 
who  wishes  for  merely  one  trifling  souvenir,  as 
can  be  imagined.  The  war  provided  some  tro- 
phies in  the  way  of  shells  and  Mauser  rifles,  but 
outside  these  there  was  nothing  except,  perhaps, 
the  empty  ostrich  eggs  to  be  found  in  every  Boer 
363 


War's  Brighter  Side 

house — and  also  to  be  found  everywhere  else  in 
the  civilised  world. 

The  most  coveted  war  trophies  were:  first, 
the  Transvaal  and  Free  State  flags;  second,  the 
extraordinary  waistcoats  worn  by  a  few  Boers, 
and  covered  all  over  with  cartridge  slits  or  pock- 
ets made  especially  to  hold  the  Mauser  "  clips  " 
of  five  cartridges  each;  third,  old  Dutch  Bibles 
illustrated  by  quaint  woodcuts,  and  fourth,  Boer 
rifles.  However,  even  the  war  trophies  were 
few  and  hard  to  get,  and  the  singular  energy  of 
collectors  expended  itself  in  the  gathering  of 
new  and  old  postage  stamps,  at  which  generals, 
colonels,  and  Tommies  busied  themselves,  and  a 
well-known  London  man  of  my  acquaintance 
cleared  a  profit  of  £300,  still  reserving  for  him- 
self a  handsome  collection. 

The  name  of  Prince  Francis  of  Teck  no 
longer  appeared  in  The  Friend  beneath  the  de- 
mand he  had  been  making  for  horses.  I  remem- 
ber that  the  circus-ground  he  had  pre-empted 
for  the  safe-keeping  of  his  stock  was  now  full  of 
animals  one  day,  half-empty  the  next  day,  and 
full  again  on  the  third,  as  he  bought  and  distrib- 
uted his  live  stock.  I  want,  before  I  forget  it, 
to  tell  how  some  of  us  editors  entertained  him 
without  having  the  vaguest  idea  who  he  was. 

He  was  invited  to  dinner  at  the  Free  State 
Hotel  by  Mr.  Landon,  who  saw  him  seated  and 
364 


Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes 

then  introduced  him  to  the  rest  of  us,  but  in  so 
indistinct  a  manner  that  we  did  not  catch  his 
name.  We  simply  saw  in  our  company  a  hand- 
some and  stalwart  young  officer  of  imposing 
stature,  and  evidently  profound  good-nature. 
We  all  conversed  upon  the  current  topics  of  the 
day  and  place,  and  one  of  us,  I  remember,  had 
occasion  to  differ  with  our  guest,  diametrically, 
upon  some  point — doing  so  as  bluntly,  though 
not  at  all  rudely,  as  men  were  apt  to  do  in  such  a 
place  and  at  such  a  time — when  the  extra  and 
more  elaborate  formalities  are  apt  to  be  laid 
aside  for  future  use  at  the  Mount  Nelson  Hotel, 
and  later  in  the  routine  of  life  at  home. 

After  dinner  our  guest  suggested  that  he 
should  enjoy  a  chat  and  smoke  in  our  company 
elsewhere  than  in  the  noisy  dining-room,  so  we 
invited  him  to  Mr.  Kipling's  bedroom,  which 
was  larger  than  Mr.  Landon's  or  Mr.  Gwynne's 
or  mine.  We  spent  a  very  pleasant  hour  in 
freest  converse,  one  of  us  being  prone  upon  one 
bed  and  rolling  around  on  it  pipe  in  mouth, 
while  our  guest  lolled  upon  a  cot  beside  the 
chest  of  drawers,  and  the  others  held  down  two 
chairs  and  looked  after  the  distribution  of  the 
cigarettes  and  the  less  dry  refreshments  at  our 
command. 

We  were  not  able,  by  any  means,  to  agree 
with  some  of  the  propositions  of  our  guest,  but 
365 


War's  Brighter  Side 

he  accepted  our  views  in  a  spirit  of  good-hu- 
mour, or  of  a  desire  to  learn  what  we  had  seen 
and  studied.  He  talked  a  great  deal  about 
horses,  and  about  the  fertile  ingenuity  of  the 
native  horse  trader,  as  well  as  of  his  own  ability 
to  defeat  him  at  his  wiles — but  we  took  no  hint 
from  this.  When  he  had  gone  we  asked  Mr. 
Landon,  ''Who  was  that?  We  did  not  catch 
his  name." 

Mr.  Landon  told  us,  and  we  replied, 
"O-oh!" 

The  largest  advertisement  in  the  paper  was 
that  of  Mr.  Murray  Guthrie,  Esq.,  M.P.,  whose 
address  just  then  was  ''  the  Railway  Station." 
He  was  most  generously  giving  up  his  time  to 
the  receipt  and  distribution  of  those  parcels  for 
the  troops  which  were  now  beginning  to  come 
from  England  in  great  and  little  packing-cases, 
and  large  and  small  bundles  numbering  enough 
to  be  reckoned  by  the  car-load. 

We  had  received  the  news  of  the  killing  of 
Colonel  de  Villebois-Mareuil  in  an  engagement 
with  Lord  Methuen's  force,  and  Mr.  Gwynne 
wrote  a  spirited  leader  in  honour  of  the  French- 
man's memory. 

We  heard  sortie  interesting  details  about  the 

capture  of  Villebois,  which  I  think  have  never 

been    published.      His    commando    threatened 

Boshof,  and  when  our  force  began  to  attack  the 

366 


Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes 

kopje  where  he  was  lodged  the  second  shell  we 
fired  killed  him.  He  was  not  the  only  nobleman 
in  his  commando,  for  among  the  prisoners  we 
captured  one  was  a  Russian  prince  and  another 
was  the  Comte  Breda,  a  Frenchman,  Uke  his 
leader.  Another  prisoner  was  a  stalwart  Eng- 
lishman named  Simpson,  whose  long  beard  was 
braided  to  keep  it  out  of  the  way  when  he  was 
shooting.  Physically,  he  was  the  most  splendid 
specimen  of  manhood  our  soldiers  had  seen  in 
the  Boer  ranks.  Lord  Methuen  ordered  a  mili- 
tary burial,  and  commanded  Colonel  Higgins  of 
the  Third  Welsh  Borderers  to  obtain  a  fitting 
tombstone.  The  English  general  attended  the 
funeral,  which  took  place  in  Boshof  cemetery. 
''  General  "  Villebois  was  buried  in  a  blanket, 
but  this  was  covered  by  the  Union  Jack  when 
the  body  was  solemnly  borne  to  the  grave  be- 
tween the  lines  of  the  men  of  the  Loyal  North 
Lancashire  Regiment.  No  chaplain  of^ciated, 
but  none  of  the  formalities  of  a  complete  military 
service  were  omitted.  The  Comte  Breda  made 
a  little  speech  at  the  close,  thanking  the  British 
for  their  courtesy  and  kindness.  After  that  our 
own  dead  were  buried  in  the  same  little  cemetery. 
The  afifair  provoked  great  and  deep  discus- 
sion, and  so  many  British  ofiBcers  were  displeased 
by  what  Lord  Methuen  had  seen  fit  to  do  that 
The  Friend  was  at  pains  to  try  and  clear  the 
25  367 


War's  Brighter  Side 

air  of  the  false  impression  that  one  brave  general 
had  not  a  right  to  honour  another  in  this  sol- 
dierly way.  We  also  pictured  Villebois  as  he 
appeared  to  us,  a  knight  of  ancient  pattern,  a 
restless,  gallant  warrior,  who  had  political  rea- 
sons for  wishing  to  keep  himself  in  the  mind  of 
his  people  while  waiting  for  the  ripening  of  his 
plans.  The  line  on  his  gravestone,  ''  died  on  the 
field  of  honour,"  was  originally  written  "  on  the 
field  of  battle,"  and  was  ordered  to  be  changed  at 
the  last  moment.  This  phrase  also  angered 
many  British,  who,  presumably,  thought  that  a 
grand  monument  had  been  set  up  over  the  un- 
fortunate Frenchman.  In  fact,  the  stone  only 
cost  ten  pounds  when  dressed  and  inscribed,  and 
in  a  country  where  such  things  fetch  twice  their 
value  here. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{^Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts*  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    SATURDAY,    APRIL    7,    I90O. 

COL.  DE  VILLEBOIS-MAREUIL 

BY    MR.    H.    A.    GWYNNE 

( The  following  message  has  been  received  by  F.  M.  Lord  Roberts 
from  Lord  Methuen  :  '"''Arrangements  have  been  made  for  the 
burial  of  Colonel  de  Villebois-Mareuil  this  evening  with  military 
honour  sy^ 

A  short,  well-built,  admirably  proportioned  man, 
with  quick  expressive  eyes,  and  an  open,  frank 
countenance    was    the   late    Colonel    de    Villebois- 

368 


Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes 

Mareuil.  He  was  a  soldier,  and  a  gallant  soldier, 
from  the  top  of  his  close-cropped  head  to  the  soles 
of  his  daintily-shod  feet.  Wherever  there  was  war, 
or  the  possibilities  of  war,  de  Villebois-Mareuil  was 
on  the  spot  ready  to  fight  for  whichever  side,  in  his 
eyes,  appeared  to  have  the  greater  claims  on  justice. 
Impulsive  to  a  degree,  he  was  often  drawn  to  conclu- 
sions for  which  he  could  never  give  logical  grounds. 
The  picturesqueness  of  the  Boer  side  of  the  war,  the 
presence  of  old  Huguenot  names  among  those  of  the 
Boer  leaders,  the  imagined  wrongs  of  the  two  Re- 
publics, were  quite  sufficient  to  attract  the  generous 
and  emotional  Frenchman  into  the  struggle.  And 
once  in  the  struggle,  he  gave  the  whole  of  his  energy 
to  it.  Not  content  with  drawing  the  sword  for  the 
two  Republics,  he  wielded  a  charming  pen  on  their 
behalf.  Some  of  his  letters  to  the  Paris  Liberie  prove 
that  if  the  world  has  lost  a  gallant  soldier,  it  has 
also  lost  a  brilliant  war  correspondent. 

To  us  English,  imbued  as  we  are  with  a  full 
appreciation  of  everything  which  appears  manly  or 
sporting,  the  figure  of  Colonel  de  Villebois-Mareuil 
is  particularly  sympathetic.  We  overlook  his  some- 
what illogical  defence  of  what  appears  to  us  the 
gross  injustice  of  the  Transvaal's  dealings  with  Eng- 
lishmen, and  we  only  see  a  gallant  Frenchman  fight- 
ing and  laying  down  his  life  for  a  cause  which  he 
espoused  with  the  warmth  of  a  generous  nature. 
There  is  something  touching  in  a  sentence  of  his 
which  appears  in  one  of  his  letters  from  South 
Africa.    "  When  I  came  here  I  believed  I  was  going 

369 


War's  Brighter  Side 

to  the  sacrifice."    Gallant,  generous,  chivalrous  sol- 
dier :  May  God  rest  his  soul ! 

Over  his  grave  we  forget  that  he  fought  against 
us,  and  we  think  only  of. the  gallant  soldier.  A 
British  bullet  laid  him  low,  but  a  British  General 
lays  him  to  rest  with  full  military  honours. 


A  BALLADE  OF  TEN-A-PENNY 

BY    J.    H.    M.    A. 

Kopjes  are  steep,  and  the  veldt  is  brown — 

(Utterly  true,  if  you  pause  to  think) 
Biscuits  are  done  and  your  luck  is  down ; 

''  Modder  "  is  not  an  inspiriting  drink 
(Dead  Boers'  taint,  and  defunct  mules  stink). 

Better  the  sound  of  the  screaming  bomb, 
Excitement  and  hurry  of  Hell's  own  brink — 

Alas !  for  a  tune  on  the  gay  Pom-pom. 

"  Action  front !  " — And  the  guns  are  round. 

Teams  go  back  with  the  chains  a-clink. 
We're  reaping  the  storm  that  the  scouts  have  sown 

(The  sun  gets  red  and  the  clouds  are  pink). 
"  Show  for  the  lyddite,  that's  all  " — you  think 

(Frenchmen  would  shrug,  with  a  sacre  nom). 
When  out  in  the  dusk,  in  the  half  of  a  jink, 

Suddenly  singeth  the  brisk  Pom-pom. 

"  Pom-pom-pom  " — and  the  shells  have  flown  ; 

"  Bang-bang-bang  " — without  rise  or  sink — 
Accurate  sameness  to  half  a  tone — 

Whizzing  one-pounders — don't  stop  to  think — 
370 


Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes 

open  the  ranks  like  a  "  spieler's  "  wink. 

This  is  a  speedy  and  frolicsome  bomb, 
Do  not  despise  it,  but  do  not  shrink, 

This  is  a  nerve-test,  this  swift  Pom-pom. 

ENVOI 

Oom,  when  you  sit  in  the  dark  and  think. 
After  the  war,  and  your  nights  are  long. 

Bitterness  sweeten  of  cups  you  drink 

With  a  memory  sad  of  your  sweet  Pom-pom, 


HOW  THE  CALF  WAS  AVENGED 

BY    LEONARDITE,    82ND    BTY.,    R.F.A. 

It  happened  about  the  time  of  the  Paardeberg 
aflfair,  or,  to  be  exact,  at  12.10  a.m.  on  the  22nd  of 
February,  1900,  our  battery  (the  82nd  R.F.A.)  had 
throughout  the  day  catered  diligently  and  well  for 
the  tastes  of  Cronje  and  his  followers.  They  had 
breakfast  betimes  in  the  shape  of  shrapnel  (un- 
boiled), liberally  and  impartially  distributed  to  all 
and  sundry  within  the  laager;  luncheon,  tea,  and 
supper  followed  in  due  succession,  each  consisting 
principally  of  the  same  palatable  diet,  flavoured  at 
intervals  with  the  celebrated  Lyddite  sauce.  This 
same  is  noted  for  its  piquancy  and  marvellous  power 
of  imparting  elasticity  to  the  lower  extremities 
(gouty  and  dropsical  people  please  copy). 

We  returned  to  camp  that  night  pretty  well  tired 
out,  and  hungry  enough  to  eat  "  heef  "  (troop  horse, 

371 


War's  Brighter  Side 

isn't  it?),  and  wondering  what  our  good  Poulter,  the 
battery  chefy  had  prepared  in  the  shape  of  grub — we 
had  fought  all  day  on  a  couple  of  "  Spratt's  gum- 
hardeners."  As  we  neared  the  camp  a  most  appe- 
tising odour  smote  our  olfactory  nerves.  ''  Beef 
stew,"  says  our  No.  i,  who  has  a  wonderful  nose  for 
odours.  "  Garn,"  retorts  Driver  Jones,  who  loves  a 
joke ;  ''  more  likely  an  old  goat  that's  '  scorfed '  the 
r'nside  of  one  of  '  Redfern's  trenches '  (this  is  a  bat- 
tery joke) ;  too  strong  for  beef."  Well,  by  this  time 
we  had  arrived,  and  some  one  who  knew  said  it  was 
veal,  and  that  Mason,  our  Mason,  Mason  the  mighty 
hunter  and  what-not,  had  commandeered  it. 

Presently  arrived  the  cooks  and  camp  kettles,  and 
we  settled  down  to  a  good  "  buster."  When  nothing 
was  left  but  empty  pots  and  vain  longings,  we  lit  our 
pipes,  and  the  aromatic  fumes  of  our  Boer's  Head 
cabbagio  were  wafted  heavenwards,  our  veracious 
raconteur  related  how  he  had  captured  the  calf. 
How  our  pulses  throbbed  and  our  blood  rose  to 
fever  heat  as  he  told  how  he  tore  away  his  game 
from  under  the  very  horns  of  its  enraged  mother; 
and  how,  with  the  calf  on  his  back,  he  had  been 
chased  five  miles  and  over  a  big  kopje  strewn  with 
boulders  as  big  as  an  A.S.C.  waggon,  and  finally, 
seeing  no  other  mode  of  escape,  had  hurled  the 
animal  (the  calf,  not  its  maternal  relative)  from  the 
top  of  the  kopje,  and  in  sheer  desperation  had  leaped 
down  after  it,  breaking  his  fall  by  alighting  on 
its  body. 

Bidding  us  good-night,  he  left  us  to  imagine 

372 


Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes 

what  he  would  have  broken  had  he  ahghted  off 
its  body. 

Feeling  the  spirit  of  contentment  hovering  o'er 
us,  we  prepared  to  turn  it.  The  guns  had  'previously 
been  unlimbered  and  were  ready  for  action,  with 
their  muzzles  pointing  to  the  enemy.  Formed  up 
in  rear  were  the  six  gun  limbers  and  six  ammuni- 
tion waggons,  each  with  its  team  of  six  horses  still 
hooked  in  in  case  of  any  emergency.  In  addition 
were  the  horses  of  the  single  riders,  tied  by  their 
head-ropes  to  different  parts  of  the  carriages,  mak- 
ing a  total  of  somewhere  about  a  hundred  horses. 

Well,  we  had  comfortably  settled  down  and  were 
enjoying  our  first  sleep  when  the  sentries  were 
startled  by  a  most  unearthly  noise  from  the  vicinity 
of  the  camp.  It  sounded  like  a  dyspeptic  groan 
from  a  more  than  ordinarily  cavernous  stomach. 
The  horses  pricked  up  their  ears  and  the  sentries 
clutched  their  carbines  tighter  as  they  peered  into 
the  darkness.  Suddenly  came  the  sound  again — a 
mournful,  melancholy,  hair-raising  sound.  Like  a 
flash  the  whole  battery  of  horses,  as  though  acting 
on  a  signal,  stampeded  into  the  night,  taking  the 
waggons  with  them ;  over  sleeping  men  they  went, 
stopping  for  no  obstacles,  overturning  guns  in  their 
mad  career,  and  heading  straight  for  the  enemy's 
trenches.  The  outposts,  thinking  the  Boers  were 
trying  to  break  through  the  lines,  opened  fire  at 
nothing.  The  Boers,  thinking  they  were  attacked, 
did  ditto.  It  was  a  perfect  pandemonium  for  a  few 
minutes.     The  spiteful  spit-puff  of  the  Mauser  and 

373 


War's  Brighter  Side 

sharp  crack  of  the  Lee-Metford,  the  whole  blending 
with  the  cries  of  the  injured  and  the  shouts  of  the 
men  who  were  trying  to  stop  the  runaways,  made 
an  impression  that  few  who  witnessed  the  scene 
will  ever  forget. 

We  had  several  more  or  less  severely  injured, 
lost  about  thirty  horses  and  one  waggon,  besides 
several  that  were  overturned  and  smashed. 

All  this  damage  was  caused  by  the  lowing  of  an 
old  cow  who  had  wandered  through  the  camp  seek- 
ing her  lost  offspring. 

Moral. — Hanker  ye  after  the  fleshpots,  com- 
mandeer ye  not,  but  buy !  buy !  buy ! 

Note. — Wanted  to  know — vide  the  Press  report 
of  Paardeberg  action — Since  when  has  the  82nd 
Battery,  R.F.A.,  become  a  mule  battery? 


'ORSE    OR    FUT? 

BY    MARK   THYME 

(A  Song  of  the  Household  Brigade) 
I 
It  ain*t  a  fatigue  to  see  him, 

'E's  a  taller  than  usual  man. 
As  'e  struts  down  the  road  'e's  as  smart  as  be  blowed, 

And  'is  swagger  would  stop  Big  Ben, 
'E's  a  fair  take-in  for  the  ladies. 

For  of  course  it's  a  maxim  trite 
When  a  cove's  in  the  Guards,  why  it's  just  on  the 
cards 
'E's  a  bit  of  the  best  All-Right. 

374 


Loot  and  Lurid  Crazes 


CHORUS 

Whether  'e  wears  a  'elmet, 
Or  'airy  'at  on  'is  nut, 
When  all's  done  and  said,  'E  is  'Ousehold  Brigade, 
Whether  'e's  'Orse  or  Fut. 
{Shouted  ad  lib.) :  THAT'S  RIGHT 
Whether  'e's  'Orse  or  Fut. 

n 

O'  course  'e's  fond  of  'is  lady, 

'Is  lady  she  doats  on  'im, 
And  it's  princip'ly  that  what's  the  cause  of  'er  'at, 

With  its  feathers  and  twisted  brim. 
When  'e  takes  'er  out  of  a  Sunday 

She  says,  *'  What  a  lovely  sight ! 
Oh !  there  isn't  a  doubt,  But  I'm  walking  about 

With  a  bit  of  the  best  Ail-Right." 

CHORUS 

And  when  'e  looks  in  promisc'ous 
'Taint  often  the  door  is  shut, 
For  she's  fond  of  a  mash,  with  a  curly  moustache, 
Whether  'e's  'Orse  or  Fut. 
{As  before)  :  That's  Right 
Whether  'e's  'Orse  or  Fut. 

Ill 

And  then,  when  the  war-clouds  gather, 

On  Service  'e  goes  away ; 
And  it's  "  Goodbye,  Sal,  God  bless  you,  my  gal !  " 

And  the  woman  is  left  to  pray. 

375 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Then  whether  it's  toil  and  'ardship, 

Or  whether  it's  march  and  fight, 
'E's  a  joker,  we  know,  As  is  certain  to  show 

'E's  a  bit  of  the  best  All-Right. 

CHORUS 

Whether  it's  sword  or  bayonet, 

Whether  it's  lance  or  butt, 
'E's  bound  to  go  large  When  they're  sounding  the 
Charge, 

Whether  'e's  'Orse  or  Fut. 

(As  before — only  more  so) :  That's  Right ! 

Whether  'e's  'Orse  or  Fut. 


HAS  THE  WAR  JUST  BEGUN? 

The  Cradock  Dutch  newspaper,  the  Middel- 
landsche  Afrikaander,  says :  "  Our  English  con- 
temporaries are  greatly  mistaken  in  thinking  that 
the  war  has  now  virtually  ended.  The  Republicans 
are  now  going  to  act  on  the  defensive,  and  now  one 
can  expect  a  deathly  struggle.  The  war  has  now 
lasted  nearly  six  months,  and,  however  much  we 
desire  it,  there  is  no  prospect  of  peace  as  yet." 


376 


CHAPTER    XXII 

In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

IVe  try  to  Name  the  Nezv  Colony,  and  describe  the 
Kornespruit  Fight 

Our  ten  thousand  readers  had  been  invited 
to  send  in  their  suggestions  for  a  new  name  for 
the  Free  State,  and  then  to  express  their  opin- 
ions upon  the  names  thus  suggested.  The  first 
person  to  have  sent  in  the  name  preferred  by  the 
gfreater  number  of  readers  was  to  receive  five 
guineas,  and  perhaps  the  honour  of  naming  a 
new  colony  of  the  greater  Empire.  The  names 
suggested  by  the  Army  and  the  Bloemfontein 
readers  of  The  Friend  were  as  follows: — 

Alexandra,  Adamantia,  Albertia,  Altruria,  At- 
kinsdom,  Aurania,  Brand  State,  Brandesia,  British 
South  Africa,  Britannia,  British  Colonia,  Brands- 
land,  Buckland,  Burghers'  State,  Central  Colony, 
Centuria,  Campania,  Carnatia,  Cameraria,  Chamber- 
lainia,  Cecilia,  Crucipatria,  Colonia,  Cisvaal,  Closer 
Union,  Conquered  Territories,  Crown  State,  Cen- 
tralia,  Capricornia,  Cilionia,  Concordia,  Diamond 
377 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Colony,  Diadem  State,  Empire  State,  Esicia,  Em- 
pressland,  Frere  State,  Fonteinland,  Fonteinia,  Freer 
State,  Frereland,  Federalia,  Filia  State,  Federaldom, 
Grassland,  Gariep  Sovereignty,  Guelfland,  Helenia, 
Immigratia,  Imperial  Orange  Colony,  Imperia, 
Jubileeland,  Kandaharia,  Khaki  State,  Khakiland, 
Kopjesia,  Lanceria,  Leonida,  Marchland,  Mimosa- 
land,  Malaria,  Milneria,  Midland,  Middle  Colony, 
Mid-South  Africa,  Modrieta,  New  Ireland,  New 
Alexandria,  New  Victoria,  North  Cape  Colony, 
New  Albion,  New  Era,  New  Canada,  New  Colony, 
New  Rietana,  Northern  Province,  New  Gualia,  New 
Victoria,  New  Edward's  Land,  New  Egypt,  Orange 
State,  Orange,  Orangia,  Orangeland,  Orange  Col- 
ony, Orange  Sovereignty,  Provincia,  Pasturia,  Pas- 
toria.  Queen's  Free  State,  Robertsland,  Rietania, 
Robertesia,  Robertsin,  Robertina,  Robertonia,  Rob- 
ertshire,  Roberterre,  Roberton,  Robersdale,  Robert- 
sia,  Robiana,  Robermain,  Reconquered  Land,  Re- 
gina  Land,  Stellaland,  Stellarland,  Sylvania,  Suze- 
rainia,  Steyn's  Folly,  Salisbury,  Tableland,  Trans 
Garep,  Transgarepian  Territory,  Trans  Orange, 
Uitland,  Union  Era,  United  British  Empire,  Union 
State,  U.S.  South  Africa,  Victory,  Victorialand,  Vic- 
toria Robertsia,  Victoriafontein,  Veldtland,  Veldt. 

The  voting  closed  on  April  7th,  and  on  April 
9th  we  announced  that  the  name  Brandesia,  hon- 
ouring a  late  President  of  the  State,  an  upright 
man  and  a  friend  of  Great  Britain,  had  secured  by 
far  the  greater  number  of  votes.  Taking  the 
378 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

whole  vote,  and  separating  from  it  the  votes  for 
those  names  which  were  formed  upon  or  out  of 
the  name  of  Roberts,  it  was  seen  that  the  desire 
of  the  Army  to  honour  its  Chief  was  stronger 
than  the  expression  of  the  Free  Staters  in  re- 
membrance of  President  Brand.  But  "  Bran- 
desia "  secured  the  most  votes,  and  Mr.  P. 
Johnson,  whom  we  were  not  able  to  discover 
afterwards,  won  the  five  guineas.  Private  W. 
Cooper,  H  Company,  5th  Regiment  of  Mounted 
Infantry,  won  the  two-guinea  prize  for  guessing 
nearest  to  the  five  names  that  secured  the  great- 
est number  of  votes.  Now  that  the  Govern- 
ment has  named  the  country  ''  The  Orange 
River  Colony  "  we  see  that  whoever  sent  in  the 
name  "  Orange  Colony "  really  deserved  the 
most  of  whatever  credit  goes  with  guessing 
blindly. 

Coming  upon  Mr.  James'  clear  and  accurate 
account  of  the  Corne  Drift  (Kornespruit  or 
Sanna's  Post)  ambuscade  reminds  me  of  how  the 
heroic  survivors  of  that  red-hot  fight  drifted 
back  to  town,  drifted  into  the  hotel  dining- 
rooms — actually  drifted  into  my  bedroom  in  the 
case  of  Colonel  Pilcher — and  I  missed  the  chance 
at  the  time  of  looking  at  them  with  eyes  that  saw 
the  hell  they  had  been  through;  without  the 
understanding  by  which  I  could  measure  their 
pluck. 

379 


War's  Brighter  Side 

There  had  been  a  fight  at  the  Waterworks, 
and  we  had  been  beaten,  and  had  suffered  a 
shocking  loss  of  men  and  guns — that  was  all  that 
most  of  us  knew  on  the  Sunday  that  followed  the 
fighting  on  Saturday,  March  31st.  Afterwards 
I  saw  a  score  of  the  dare-devils  who  had  squeezed 
out  between  the  fingers  of  Death's  clenched 
hands,  and  I  made  the  fight  my  most  serious 
study  in  the  war — but  I  missed  the  chance  of  see- 
ing it  for  myself,  and  then  I  lost  the  glow  of 
knowing  what  I  looked  at  when  I  saw  the  sur- 
vivors come  in. 

Mr.  Gwynne  went  out  to  the  scene  and 
caught  a  gUmpse  of  the  end  of  it.  As  there 
is  no  living  correspondent  better  equipped  to 
judge  events  in  war,  and  as  it  is  the  pride  of  more 
than  one  general  to  obtain  his  views  and  ac- 
counts of  the  actions  he  witnesses,  I  will  quote  a 
bit  of  his  editorial  of  April  5th,  in  which  he 
touches  upon  the  Sauna's  Post  affair:  "  Perhaps 
never  in  the  history  of  British  campaigns  have 
our  soldiers  shown  more  splendid  courage,  more 
dogged  resistance  and  greater  coolness.  Gen- 
eral Broadwood  has  covered  himself  with  glory 
by  the  masterly  way  in  which  he  extricated  his 
little  force  from  a'  veritable  death-trap.  And 
w^ho  is  there  who  can  pay  adequate  tribute  to  the 
behaviour  of  our  gunners,  and  the  gallant  band 
of  British  soldiers  who  held  off  a  greatly  superior 
380 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

force  under  most   difficult   and   trying   circum- 
stances? " 

It  was  while  Mr.  Gwynne  was  at  the  scene 
that  a  Boer  suddenly  appeared  and  advanced 
toward  him  unarmed  like  himself;  indeed,  Mr. 
Gwynne  believes  the  man  was  a  war  correspond- 
ent. The  two  talked  of  the  fight:  *'  Your  peo- 
ple showed  wonderful  courage,"  said  the  Boer; 
"  we  thought  we  had  bagged  your  whole  force. 
I  am  bound  to  say  that  had  the  Boers  been  in 
.such  a  tight  place  they  would  have  surrendered." 


BOER  PLANS  AND  VIEWS 

"  The  following  is  a  literal  translation  of  a  genuine  Boer 
document  recejitly  discovered.  It  has  been  forzvarded  to  us  for 
publication  by  an  officer  of  the  Intelligence  Department^  to  whom 
we  tender  our  best  thanks." 

Observations  on  the  Present  War 

BY    captain    I.    D. 

{A  Translation) 

In  order  to  form  an  opinion  on  the  manner  of 
operations  of  both  hostile  parties,  at  present  or  in 
the  future,  it  is  necessary,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
endeavour  to  obtain  an  understanding  of  the  differ- 
ent properties  and  conditions  of  both  belligerents. 

From  a  physical  point  of  view,  the  Boer  stands 
far  above  his  enemy  in  respect  to  bodily  strength 
and  perseverance. 

381 


War's  Brighter   Side 

He  inherits  from  his  Teuton  ancestor  a  quiet  and 
patient  nature,  coupled  with  a  strong  frame,  which 
makes  him  less  liable  to  be  affected  by  troubles  and 
loss  of  spirit  under  the  continued  strains  which  are 
inseparable  from  the  campaign,  while  the  Huguenot 
blood  which  flows  through  his  veins  continually 
gives  him  fresh  power  and  energy,  which  is  much 
in  his  favour  in  a  final  attack;  further  he  is  filled 
with  an  unlimited  faith  in  his  God  and  the  assurance 
of  the  righteousness  of  his  cause,  which  fills  him 
with  superhuman  strength  and  lion-like  courage. 

Open-air  life  has  given  him  a  clearness  of  sight, 
and  perseverance  which  is  probably  without  equal  in 
the  world's  history,  while  his  monotonous  life  is  the 
cause  that  he,  though  a  lower  member  of  the  force, 
can  act  independently.  By  lack  of  discipline  and 
organisation,  his  movements  are  sometimes  clumsy, 
which,  however,  tends  to  his  benefit  in  an  uneven 
field,  and  taken  altogether  are  little  to  his  detri- 
ment, as  he  is  not  bound  by  special  rules  respect- 
ing formation  or  otherwise.  In  contrast,  the  British 
troops  are  (notwithstanding  there  may  be  many 
brave  soldiers  found  among  them)  on  account  of 
their  organisation  and  equipment,  &c.,  little  adapted 
to  keep  up  their  heads  against  the  mental  and  bodily 
strain  of  a  continued  and  wearisome  war. 

They  are  mostly  obtained  out  of  cities  and  towns, 
which  leaves  much  to  be  wished  for  in  their  clear- 
ness of  sight,  steadiness  of  arm,  and  power  of  self- 
reliance,  while  the  discipline,  organisation,  rules  and 
directions  to  which  they  must  hold  weaken  them 

382 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

more,  so  that  they  are  merely  tools,  standing  under 
their  officers*  commands,  of  a  fighting  machine. 
The  officers  in  many  instances  are  young  and  with- 
out experience,  and  mentally  and  bodily  unfit  to  fulfil 
their  serious  and  responsible  duties,  chosen  to  be 
officers  not  for  their  ability,  or  natural  talent,  but 
because  they  are  sons  of  the  noble,  or  of  the  re- 
spected of  the  land. 

It  is,  however,  not  intended  here,  by  any  means, 
to  throw  the  blame  on  the  valour  of  the  officers 
or  men. 

When  the  nature  of  both  armies  is  considered, 
one  comes  to  the  conclusion  that  the  British  troops 
all  gain  an  advantage  in  an  attack  on  equal  ground, 
if  a  strong  force  is  used  in  it,  while  the  Boers  will 
obtain  one  in  case  there  are  fewer  attackers  brought 
into  the  field.  The  English  will  benefit  by  defend- 
ing, especially  if  time  be  given  them  to  build  de- 
fences, and  also  where  towns  and  camps  must 
be  held. 

Over  hilly  and  uneven  ground  the  Boer  has  by 
far  the  best  chance  to  attack,  while  in  an  eventual 
defence  he  has  everything  in  his  favour,  and  is  prac- 
tically not  to  be  got  at. 

The  British  authorities  have  apparently  too 
much  trust  in  the  result  of  their  Artillery.  It  is  plain 
that  they  cherish  the  idea  that  it  will  have  a  de- 
moralising efifect  on  the  Boers,  and  therein  they  have 
fortunately  been  mistaken.  They  did  not  calculate 
that  the  eflfect  could  not  be  so  great  on  scattered 
troops,  and  that  the  result  cannot  be  equal  to  the  ex- 

26  383 


War's  Brighter  Side 

penditure  and  difficulties  of  transport.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Artillery  of  the  Boers  necessarily  has  a 
powerful  result  on  troops  which,  like  the  British,  are 
formed  in  close  order,  notwithstanding,  according  to 
the  ideas  of  the  writer  of  this,  enough  use  is  not 
made  of  "  black  gunpowder  "  with  a  view  to  find 
the  distances  by  trial  shots  with  that  powder,  to  be 
afterwards  followed  by  burstable  shells  with  ''  time 
fuse  "  to  produce  great  destruction. 

As  the  ground  is  mostly  soft,  shells  which  burst 
on  impact,  so-called  percussion  shells,  cannot  mostly 
be  used  with  favourable  results,  except  under  special 
circumstances.  To  bombard  camps  or  towns  ''  cor- 
dite "  or  "  melanite  "  should  not  be  used,  as  both 
explosives  contain  no  inflammable  properties,  which 
are  so  necessary  to  set  houses,  waggons,  forage, 
&c.,  on  fire. 

The  greatest  care  should  be  taken  that  the 
mounted  Boers  should  not  be  exposed  in  the  open 
plain  to  the  attacks  of  the  enemy's  cavalry,  unless 
they  are  protected  by  quick-firing  Maxim-Vickers 
guns  and  shells,  seeing  that  the  British  Cavalry  have 
a  great  advantage  at  short  distances  in  the  use  of 
lances,  swords  and  pistols. 

It  is  highly  desirable  that  the  Boer  commandos 
should  not  be  accompanied  by  many  commissariat 
waggons  laden  with  provision,  tents  and  other 
things,  as  they  tend  to  hinder  them,  and  prevent 
their  executing  quick  movements. 

In  calculating  the  chances  in  this  war,  it  has 
always  been  considered  that  the  Boers  have  their 

384 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

greatest  advantage  in  being  independent  of  com- 
missariat transport,  and  although  provision  must  be 
made  to  be  in  touch  with  certain  points  with  the 
necessary  provision  for  the  commissariat,  these,  not- 
withstanding, must  be  viewed  as  items  wherewith, 
considering  the  great  interests  at  stake,  too  much 
care  is  not  needed  to  be  taken. 

On  this  ground  the  British  troops  are  far  ahead 
of  the  Boers,  on  account  of  their  proper  organisa- 
tion, and  it  is  indeed  to  be  regretted  that  a  Hke  de- 
partment has  not  been  estabhshed,  especially  as  the 
Boers  would  be  specially  fitted  for  it,  and  have  up  to 
this  time  made  so  little  use  of  their  talent  in  this 
direction.  Herein  a  serious  instance  is  brought  as 
an  example,  namely,  the  fact  that  the  English  troops 
could  retreat  in  order  from  Dundee,  without  its 
being  directly  known.  Also  the  disaster  at  Elands- 
laagte  must  be  ascribed  thereto,  where  small  isolated 
troops,  consisting  of  a  mixed  commando,  were  sur- 
rounded in  positions  not  advantageous  to  their  mode 
of  warfare,  and,  even  had  our  troops  at  that  place 
been  in  a  defensible  position,  they  were  ^'  not  in 
touch  "  with  other  troops,  who  could  hasten  to  their 
assistance. 

As  to  plans  which  are  reckoned  to  be  the  best 
to  obtain  the  victory  for  the  Republican  arms,  it  is 
an  axiom  that  the  deeper  one  penetrates  into  an 
enemy's  country,  the  more  one's  power  is  weakened 
by  the  necessity  for  keeping  up  communication,  but 
there  is  an  exception  to  every  rule,  and  this  war  at 
the  present  time  makes  the  exception.     The  Boer 

385 


War's  Brighter  Side 

forces  strengthened  their  resources,  instead  of  weak- 
ening them,  by  their  invasion  of  Natal  and  of  the 
Cape  Colony.  A  great  proportion  of  the  inhabitants 
of  these  Colonies  are  friendly,  and  they  will  thiis 
always  keep  communication  open,  even  when  they 
take  no  active  part  in  warlike  operations.  Taking 
this  as  granted,  the  conclusion  is  arrived  at  that  the 
whole  design  of  the  Republican  commanders  should 
be  to  push  their  troops  as  far  as  possible,  until  they 
reach  a  war  basis  or  boundary  line. 

Our  Governments  employ  too  many  troops  for 
Bechuanaland  and  Rhodesia  without  obtaining 
benefit  therefrom.  A  picked  commando  of  i,ooo 
men  would  possibly  be  sufficient  to  keep  control 
over  Mashonaland,  while  1,500  at  Mafeking  would 
suffice  to  cut  off  the  Bulawayo  division,  and  in  that 
case  the  troops  which  are  now  occupied  about 
Mafeking  and  Kimberley  could  be  better  employed 
and  with  likelihood  of  good  results,  by  being  pushed 
South.  If  a  sufficient  number  of  men  are  left  be- 
hind to  dispute  an  eventual  sortie  from  Kimberley 
and  Mafeking,  there  is  little  benefit  obtainable  in  the 
investment  of  towns  which  probably  can  hold  out 
six  or  eight  months.  As  long  as  they  are  well 
watched  they  cannot  do  much  harm. 

Much  more  could  have  been  gained  in  Natal 
immediately  after  the  Imperial  troops  were  sur- 
rounded at  Ladysmith,  by  sending  a  strong  com- 
mando at  once  to  the  ''  Town  Hill  "  at  Pietermaritz- 
burg,  and  if  that  commando  was  not  strong  enough 
to   offer  resistance,   on   retirement   it   could   have 

386 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

broken  up  the  railway,  and  thereby  the  siege  of 
Ladysmith,  which  is  now  being  prosecuted,  would 
have  been  a  shorter  and  less  troublesome  task. 

It  appears  that  the  Boer  forces  have  not  directed 
their  attention  to  making  a  series  of  attacks  in  the 
night.  For  such  a  purpose  their  troops  are  specially 
adapted,  and  the  result  on  the  enemy  would  cer- 
tainly be  terrible,  as  the  loss  of  sleep  would  weary 
them  bodily  as  well  as  mentally.  A  certain  number 
of  men  could  be  picked  to  trouble  the  enemy  every 
night;  for  instance,  500  men  at  Ladysmith,  100  at 
Mafeking,  and  250  at  Kimberley,  without  doing  that 
injury  to  the  Republican  troops  which  would  tend 
to  weaken  the  command  of  British  officers,  and 
make  the  men  grumble  and  dissatisfied,  even  if  the 
number  in  killed  and  wounded  was  not  especially 
great.  There  should  also  be,  when  British  troops 
are  marching,  a  division  of  picked  sharpshooters 
to  be  used  in  attacking  them  on  the  flanks,  without 
much  damage  to  the  Republican  troops,  while  doing 
much  damage  to  the  enemy.  The  killing  of  a  mule 
or  ox  belonging  to  a  waggon  or  gun  necessitates 
delay  and  inconvenience. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances,  this  war  will 
necessarily  continue  some  time,  possibly  even  over 
a  year,  and  seeing  that  there  is  such  a  number  of 
burghers  commandeered,  it  would  be  well  if  the 
authorities  could  arrange  a  plan  to  relieve  them,  say, 
for  instance,  ten  in  each  month  per  hundred.  Some 
men  of  every  commando  will  be  desirous  to  visit 
their  relations  in  case  of  sickness,  or  to  rest,  or  to 

387 


War's  Brighter  Side 

attend  to  private  matters.  When  not  relieved  it  may 
be  that  the  men  may  become  Hsdess  and  dissatisfied ; 
while  the  force  will  not  be  appreciably  weakened  by 
the  absence  of  lo  per  cent.,  such  a  rule  would  be 
pleasing  to  the  burghers,  and  in  every  sense  satisfy- 
ing to  their  officers. 


RECENT  ENGAGEMENTS 

BY    LIONEL   JAMES 

II.  Come  Drift 

The  outline  of  the  history  of  Colonel  Broad- 
wood's  column  appears  to  be  as  follows:  When 
Colonel  Pilcher  made  his  dash  for  Ladybrand,  the 
place  was  found  teeming  with  the  enemy.  In  fact, 
when  the  Landdrost  was  carried  away,  fire  was 
opened  on  the  abducting  cortege  from  the  very 
garden  gates  of  professed  loyalists.  The  whole 
country-side  was  so  disturbed  that  it  was  time  for 
the  little  column  holding  Thaba  'Nchu  to  fall  back 
upon  Bloemfontein.  Information  was  despatched 
to  headquarters  and  reinforcements  urgently  asked 
for.  When  commenced,  the  march  from  Thaba 
*Nchu  became  virtually  a  pursuit.  The  enemy  were 
reported  on  the  flanks  and  rear  of  the  column  all 
through  Friday,  March  30. 

On  Friday  night  the  column  arrived  at  a  camp 
this  side  of  the  Modder,  about  two  miles  distant 
from  the  Water-works.  The  actual  rear-guard  was 
not  into  camp  until  after  2  a.m.  on  Saturday.     So 

388 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

anxious  was  Colonel  Broadvvood  for  the  safety  of 
his  column  that  he  determined  upon  a  start  before 
daylight.  At  6  a.m.  the  enemy  opened  on  the  camp 
with  rifle  fire.  The  order  was  immediately  given  for 
the  force  to  stand  to  their  horses,  and  in  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  the  head  of  the  transport  column  was  lead- 
ing out  of  camp.  At  7  a.m.  "  U  "  and  "  Q  "  batteries 
R.H.A.  moved  off  in  battery  column,  following  the 
transport.  Roberts'  Horse,  in  fours,  moved  parallel 
to  them  on  their  left. 

About  three  miles  from  the  camp  the  road 
crosses  a  drift  known  locally  as  Corne  Drift.  The 
approach  to  this  is  peculiar.  The  actual  crossing 
practically  lies  in  the  apex  of  a  triangle,  the  two  sides 
of  which  are  formed  by  a  railway  embankment  under 
construction  and  a  bush-grown  donga.  Opposite 
the  drift  is  a  farm-house  and  some  rising  ground 
commanding,  not  only  the  drift  itself,  but  all  the 
approaches.  This  drift  the  enemy  had  occupied 
before  daylight,  and  here  they  lay  in  ambush  for  the 
advancing  column. 

Their  dispositions  were  most  perfect,  as  the  head 
of  the  column  marched  right  into  their  arms,  and 
they  were  able  to  take  possession  of  the  transport 
without  a  warning  shot  being  fired.  When  "  U  " 
Battery,  which  was  leading,  arrived  at  the  drift  it 
found  that  it  was  surrounded  by  dismounted  enemy. 
The  spokesman  called  upon  the  gunners  to  sur- 
render. They  told  the  drivers  that  they  might  dis- 
mount and  keep  their  coats.  The  surprise  was  abso- 
lute.    Major  Taylor  commanding  the  battery  man- 

389 


War's  Brighter  Side 

aged  to  warn  *'  Q"  Battery.  Then  the  ruse  was 
"  up  " — as  soon  as  the  enemy  saw  this  they  opened 
fire  from  all  their  points  of  vantage.  From  the 
rising  ground,  from  the  cover  of  the  donga  and 
from  between  the  wheels  of  the  captured  guns  and 
waggons.  As  soon  as  the  firing  opened,  the  teams 
of  the  captured  battery  stampeded  and  added  to  the 
general  chaos  of  the  moment. 

Under  a  blaze  of  fire,  four  guns  of  "  Q  "  Battery 
and  one  of  "  U  "  trotted  clear,  and  came  into  action 
about  a  thousand  yards  away  at  the  tin  buildings 
which  are  destined  to  be  the  Corne  Drift  Railway 
Station.  A  few  seconds  later  Roberts'  Horse  rallied 
upon  them.  But  here  the  nucleus  of  the  front  was 
formed  which  saved  the  whole  force  from  disaster. 

The  carnage  was  ghastly  for  a  few  minutes,  but 
as  the  gunners  stood  devotedly  to  their  pieces  and 
Roberts'  dismounted  troopers  commenced  to  keep 
down  the  fire,  Broadwood  was  able  to  form  dis- 
positions by  which  to  extricate  the  force.  This  was 
done — the  British  cavalry  were  sent  to  clear  the 
flank  of  the  donga  and,  covering  each  other,  the 
mounted  infantry  corps  were  able  to  withdraw  after 
the  remnants  of  the  batteries  had  fallen  back. 

The  action  of  the  gunners  was  magnificent.  In 
the  face  of  a  bitter  short-range  fire  they  stood  to 
their  pieces  until,  of  the  five  gun  groups,  there  were 
only  ten  men  and  one- officer  left  unscathed  to  serve 
the  guns.  Then  with  dilapidated  teams  and  manual 
haulage  they  dragged  the  battery  out  of  action,  only 
to  come  into  action  again  when  Broadwood  strained 

390 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanaa's  Post 

every  nerve  to  regain  the  baggage  and  the  guns. 
And  even  while  this  action  was  taking  place  the 
relieving  division  was  only  four  miles  distant.  It 
was  a  sad  yet  brilliant  affair.  Sad  that  the  column 
ever  fell  into  the  ambush — brilliant  in  the  manner 
in  which  the  force  was  extricated. 


BARRACK-ROOM  BALLADS 
A  Recipe 

BY    MARK   THYME 

The  man  what  writes  a  poem 

In  praise  of  our  Tommy  A's 
Ain't  got  no  call  to  study 

Their  manners,  nor  talk,  nor  ways, 
'E's  only  to  fake  up  something 

What  Barracky — more  or  less — 
And  civilians  don't  know  as  it's  rubbish  and  so 

The  Ballad's  a  big  success. 

Don't  'ave  no  truck  with  the  drill-book — 

You  might  get  a  bit  at  fault, 
It's  best  to  confine  your  attentions 

To  simple  commands,  like  "  'Alt  "  ; 
For  a  'aporth  of  'Industanie 

And  a  pennorth  of  Sergeants'  mess 
(Though  the  meanin's  all  wrong)  is  enough  for 
a  song 

To  make  it  a  big  success. 

391 


War's  Brighter  Side 

If  you  wants  to  say  anything  coarse-like, 

Well,  say  it  out  plain,  don't  'int, 
And  fill  each  line  with  expletives 

As  don't  look  pretty  in  print — 
If  you  sneers  at  the  "  Widow  of  Windsor," 

And  laughs  at  'er  soldiers'  dress, 
And  connects  the  word  "'EU"  with  an  orficer,  well, 

Your  ballad's  a  big  success. 

Take  the  slang  of  the  camp 

( IVhat's  easy  to  vamp) 
And  some  delicate  soldier  wheeze ^ 

Call  the  Guard-room  the  '*  Clink j** 

And  describe  any  driiik 
As  a  "  Fall  in  "  or  "  Stand  at  ease  "y 

Then  you  mix  the  'ole  lot 

And  you  serve  it  up  'ot  ; 
From  ingredients  sich  as  these 

Form  that  singular  salad 

A  Barrack-room  Ballad 
In  Rudyardkiplingese. 


THEY  WANT  MORE  OF  TOMMY 

BY   W.    T.    R. 

Being  among  a  group  of  Australians  the  other 
day,  I  noticed  them  watching  the  Guards  drill,  and, 
as  they  seemed  to  be  interested,  I  thought  it  a  good 
opportunity  of  getting  their  ideas  of  Thomas  Atkins. 
With  the  object  in  view,  I  engaged  one  of  them  in 
conversation.    I  ventured  a  remark  on  the  drill. 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  drill  all  right,"  said  the  Austra- 

392 


In  the  Shadow  of  Sanna's  Post 

Han,  **  but  you  see  they  get  a  bit  too  much  ot  it,  I 
think;  I  mean  as  regards  the  goose-step  business. 
You  know,  we  Austrahans,"  he  went  on,  *'  never 
have  too  much  of  that.  It  may  give  a  man  more 
steadiness  in  marching  on  parade,  but  we  don't  have 
many  show  parades  during  the  year,  Queen's  Birth- 
day being  the  most  important." 

"  How  often  do  you  drill  there?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  you  see — of  course  I'm  speaking  of  New 
South  Wales.  There  we  have  about  twenty-five  half 
day  drills  during  the  year.  These  take  place  on  a 
Saturday  afternoon.  Out  of  these  they  take  sixteen 
and  give  us  an  encampment  at  Easter.  It  is  at  this 
encampment  that  we  receive  the  most  good  as  re- 
gards learning  our  work.  I  was  almost  forgetting 
the  annual  Musketry  Course,  when  we  get  through 
our  firing.  Of  course,  we  have  plenty  of  firing 
practice  on  our  other  parades  as  well." 

"  How  did  you  chaps  come  to  be  sent  to  Africa  ?" 
I  asked. 

"  Oh !  we  all  volunteered,"  he  replied,  "  and  a 
great  job  they  had  of  it  in  selecting  the  men  to 
come.  So  many  wanted  to  come  and  so  many  were 
disappointed,  and  I  can  tell  you  that  if  they  would 
only  send  them,  there's  thousands  who  would  come. 
Why,  to  give  you  an  idea  of  it,  do  you  know  there 
are  men  in  the  ranks  who  are  worth  thousands,  and 
some  of  the  highest  families  are  represented  in  the 
war  in  the  ranks  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  get  on  with  the  soldiers  from 
home?" 

393 


War's  Brighter  Side 

"  Oh,  we  get  on  first-class ;  but  what  we  would 
like  is  more  opportunity  of  mixing  with  them  and 
becoming  better  acquainted.  You  see,  there's  so 
much  work  to  be  done  that  we  don't  get  a  chance 
to  mix  together.  Down  at  the  Modder  where  we 
did  get  a  bit  chummy.  Tommy  would  have  done 
anything  for  us.  He  would  have  given  us  the  shirt 
off  his  back  if  we'd  wanted  it,  and  we  can't  help 
liking  him,  as  the  song  used  to  say,  because  you 
can't  beat  him  down.  No  matter  in  what  circum- 
stances you  find  him  he's  always  in  a  good  humour 
and  ready  for  what's  coming  next.  You  can  see 
him  in  rags  that  used  to  be  in  khaki,  and  you  can 
see  him  just  after  he  has  received  his  kit-bag  and 
he's  always  the  same.  He  seems  to  have  plenty  of 
money  and  spends  it  just  as  readily  as  if  he  had 
the  Bank  of  England  behind  him.  But  I  think  if 
you  want  to  see  him  in  one  of  his  happiest  moments, 
you  want  to  look  at  him  when  he  is  carrying  a  bag 
of  bread  and  other  treasures  out  of  Bloemfontein." 

"  Then  you  Australians  rather  like  Tommy  ?  " 
I  said. 

"  Like  him  ?  Of  course  we  do.  We've  fought 
alongside  of  him,  and  what  we  want  is  more  of  him 
— that's  all.  You  know,  we  want  to  show  the  world 
that  we  are  all  one,  no  matter  what  part  of  the 
world  we  Britons  come  from,  and  we're  going  to 
do  it,  too." 

I  was  very  pleased  with  my  new-found  friend  and 
his  outspoken  way,  and  glad  to  have  got  rid  of  an 
idea  that  the  Colonials  didn't  take  well  to  Tommy. 

394 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

A  Complete  Newspaper 

Full  of  matter  no  longer  a  tenth  as  interesting  as 
there  and  then 

Number  21  of  The  Friend,  dated  April 
loth,  was  a  splendid  number  for  Bloemfontein, 
and  for  the  time,  yet  there  is  nothing  to  repro- 
duce except  an  Australian  trooper's  poetic 
salute  to  the  eucalyptus,  or  gum-trees,  that  he 
recognised  as  fellow  inhabitants  of  his  distant 
land,  whence  they  have  been  sent  to  cheer  the 
waste  places  of  California,  the  American  plains, 
and  all  South  Africa. 

Three  solid  columns  of  the  paper  were  justly 
given  up  to  Mr.  Kipling's  exposure  in  the  Lon- 
don Times  of  the  treasonous  element  of  the  Cape 
population,  and  its  relations  with  those  neigh- 
bours who  are  honest  and  loyal  subjects  of  the 
Queen  and  with  the  army.  Two  columns  of 
"  Renter  "  despatches  from  abroad,  one  column 
of  similar  telegrams  from  South  African  points, 
and  a  notable  leader  by  Mr.  Percival  Landon  on 
395 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Mr.  Kipling's  article,  made  up  the  contents  of 
the  reading  page. 

Mr.  Guthrie,  M.P.,  now  required  two  columns 
of  the  paper  in  which  to  announce  the  cases  and 
parcels  he  had  in  hand  for  the  soldiers.  The 
railway  had  just  delivered  to  him  five  truck- 
loads  of  those  most  welcome  necessaries  and  lux- 
uries sent  out  from  home. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts'  Forces^ 

^  .  BLOEMFONTEIN,  V       Price 

'-'  TUESDAY,   APRIL   lO,    I90O.  LOne  Penny. 

NOTICE 

The  Field-Marshal  Commanding  in  Chief  having 
decided  that  twenty  Railway  Trucks  are  to  be 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  tradesmen  of  Bloem- 
fontein  for  the  conveyance  of  food  necessaries,  it 
is  requested  that  those  wishing  to  take  advantage 
thereof  will  communicate  with  the  Director  of  Sup- 
plies at  his  office  at  the  corner  of  Green  Street  and 
Douglas  Street,  between  the  hours  of  2  and  3 
p.m.  on  Wednesday  and  Thursday  next,  nth  and 
1 2th  inst. 

As  the  amount  of  truck  accommodation  will  be 
divided  by  the  Director  of  Supplies  among  the 
various  applicants,  a  statement  of  the  Supplies  re- 
quired as  a  first  consignment  must  be  submitted. 
When  the  statements  have  been  received  an  allot- 
ment will  be  made  among  the  applicants. 
396 


A  Complete  Newspaper 

OLD  FRIENDS 

Gum  trees !    Here  in  the  Dutchman's  land  ? 

(You'll  lie  of  a  kangaroo) 
Seen  them  ? — Yes — Well,  I'll  understand 

The  truth  when  I  see  them  too. 
Lord ! — There  they  are,  by  the  old  brick  wall, 

Shiny  and  green  and  high, 

Best  of  the  sights  we've  seen  at  all 

Is  this,  to  a  Cornstalk's  eye. 
• 

Back,  by  the  creeks  in  the  far-off  plains ; 

Over  the  ranges  blue ; 
Out  in  the  West  where  it  never  rains ; 

We  whispered  "  good-bye  "  to  you. 
We  left  you  alone  on  the  high  clay  banks. 

On  a  fringe  round  the  dry  lagoon. 
Where  your  white  trunks  gleam  by  its  empty  bed 

In  the  pale,  soft  summer  noon. 

It's  carry  me  back  to  the  Castlereagh, 

Or  pack  me  along  to  Bourke ; 
On  the  Wallaby-track  to  the  west  of  Hay — 

Wherever  there's  sheds  or  work. 
It's  cattle  on  camp  or  colts  to  brand ; 

It's  brumbies  about  the  Peel — 
It's  all  we've  here  of  our  own  good  land, 

And  this  is  the  way  we  feel. 

Oh,  hurry  the  show,  and  give  us  a  lead. 

And  march  us  beyond  the  Vaal 
For  the  lambing's  near,  and  the  ewes  will  breed 

And  it's  close  up  time  to  "  tail," 

397 


War's  Brighter  Side 

And  we've  shearing  them,  and  the  wool  to  load, 
And  the  ships  are  at  Circ'lar  Quay — 

So  loot  it  along  the  red  Veldt  road, 
A  sight  for  Oom  Paul  to  see. 

And  when  we  are  back  on  the  Murray  lands. 

Or  up  in  Mouaro  hills, 
You  may  collar  the  Fonteins,  and  Drifts,  and  Rands, 

And  the  Boers  will  pay  the  bills. 
But  we'll  be  back  where  the  gum-tops  wane;. 

Or  the  Myall  hangs  and  droops ; 
With  a  good  veranda  round  the  house, 

And  none  of  your  dirty  stoops. 

So  hurry  it  up,  for  we've  work  to  do 

In  a  far  better  land  than  here. 
We  will  swap  the  veldt  and  the  parched  Karoo, 

For  the  plain  and  ranges  clear. 
But  we'll  never  forget,  in  the  days  to  come, 

The  friends  that  we've  left  behind — 
For  the  Dutchman  who  planted  yon  tall,  white  Gum 

Was  a  little  bit  more  than  kind. 

J.  H.  M.  A. 


BRAVE  YOUNG  HIGHLANDERS 
To  the  Editors  of  The  Friend, 

Sirs, — In  your  Saturday's  issue  an  appreciation 
of  the  R.A.M.C.  appears,  in  which  the  Morning  Post 
correspondent  speaks  of  their  services  as  stretcher- 
bearers  at  Magersfontein  with  the  Highland  Bri- 
gade, whereas  the  R^A.M.C.  has  furnished  no 
398 


A  Complete  Newspaper 

stretcher-bearers  to  the  Highland  Brigade,  the 
whole  of  this  dangerous  work  having  been  done 
by  the  Regimental  bearers,  and  "  A "  Company 
Volunteer  Ambulance  (King  William's  Town),  and 
as  this  company — consisting  principally  of  mere 
striplings — has  "  faced  the  music  "  right  through, 
and  kept  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  the  veterans 
of  the  Highland  Brigade,  they  surely  should  be 
credited  with  the  work  they  have  so  gallantly 
performed. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Britisher. 


27  399 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

False  Hearts  Around  Us 

Where  only  the  Women  were  frank — The  art  of 
the  War  Artist 

Miss  Bloemfontein  was  not  alone  in  dis- 
liking to  recognise  the  presence  of  the  British 
army.  Her  mother  was  not  the  only  person 
who  could  not  bear  to  see  Englishmen  marring 
the  scenery  of  the  pest-ridden  Httle  town.  Even 
while  the  tricky,  two-faced  populace  was  singing 
"  Soldiers  of  the  Queen,"  one  man  in  the  crowd 
turned  to  a  war  correspondent  and  said,  "  You 
English  are  strutting  about  very  proudly  and 
confidently,  and  think  you  own  the  country,  but 
when  you  go  away  from  here  you  will  be  sniped 
at  from  every  bush  and  spruit  wherever  you 
show  yourself." 

I  took  a  little  walk  up  past  the  English  Ca- 
thedral one  day  and  saw  a,  woman  seated  upon 
her  front  stoep,  sewing.  "  Good  morning,"  said 
I,  "do  you  speak  English?"  She  rose  and 
400 


False  Hearts  Around   Us 

glared  at  me  with  scorn  in  her  eyes.  *'  No," 
said  she,  ''  but  I  hate  the  EngUsh." 

A  little  girl  ran  out  of  a  doorway  a  few 
houses  farther  along  and  called  to  me,  "  Mister, 
mister!  Please  wear  the  red,  white  and  blue," 
and  she  pinned  a  knot  of  the  British  and  Ameri- 
can colours  on  my  coat  lapel. 

"  What  sort  of  a  lady  is  it  who  lives  in  that 
house,"  I  asked;  *' she  says  she  hates  the 
EngUsh." 

''  Oh,  she  is  Dutch,"  the  little  girl  repHed; 
''  almost  everybody  here  hates  you." 

I  turned  a  corner  and  went  down  a  side- 
street.  Two  young  women  in  a  doorway 
beamed  upon  me.  I  was  out  to  study  the  town 
and  the  people,  so  I  halted  and  engaged  them  in 
conversation.  One  was  married,  and  her  hus- 
band, who  was  of  English  stock,  had  cleverly 
managed  to  be  away  when  the  war  broke  out, 
after  which  he  found  it  impossible  to  return  and 
join  a  Boer  commando  as  he  would  have  had  to 
do,  being  only  a  poor  working  man. 

"  We  are  on  the  police  books  as  English 
sympathisers,"  said  one  of  the  women.  "  We 
have  had  to  be  very  careful,  as  we  were  warned 
that  if  we  gave  further  offence  we  would  be  pun- 
ished. What  happened  was  this:  You  see  the 
town  is  full  of  Germans,  who  have  been  most 
bitter  against  the  English.  We  went  to  the  rail- 
401 


War's  Brighter  Side 

way  station  when  some  English  prisoners  were 
being  sent  to  Pretoria.  As  the  train  moved  off 
we  waved  our  hands  to  them  and  wished  them 
better  luck.  A  German  saw  us  do  it,  and  re- 
ported us  to  the  authorities,  so  we  were  taken 
up  and  examined,  and  had  our  names  put  in  the 
'  black-book.'  " 

A  score  of  the  honest  people  of  the  town  who 
had  been  avowedly  true  to  their  English  blood, 
which  was -by  no  means  the  case  with  all  the 
British  Uitlanders,  told  me  that  they  suffered 
petty  persecution  all  the  time  until  the  town  was 
captured.  Note  what  "  Miss  Uitlander  "  said 
in  her  reply  to  ''  Miss  Bloemfontein  "  in  The 
Friend  of  March  26th: — 

The  "  loving  hand  "  you  boast  of  having  ex- 
tended to  us  has  long  since  been  covered  by  an  iron 
glove,  the  weight  of  which  we  have  daily  been  made 
to  feel,  and  to  that  you  must  associate  the  joyful 
flaunting  of  our  colours  in  your  face.  His  coming 
meant  freedom — the  sweetest  thing  in  the  world 
— to  us. 

You  called  our  brothers  and  sisters  cowards  as 
they  fled  your  oppression  and  bitter  and  openly  ex- 
pressed hatred.  You  threw  white  feathers  into  our 
carriages  as  they  passed  you  by.  You  loudly  be- 
moaned your  fate  as  a  woman  and  longed  to  don 
masculine  garments  to  aid  your  beaux  in  extermi- 
nating the  hated  English.  Could  we  remember  a 
**  loving  hand  "  then  ? 

402 


False  Hearts  Around  Us 

You  were  quick  to  tell  us  that  there  would  be 
no  room  for  us  to  live  beside  you  so  soon  as  Mr. 
Englishman  was  driven  back  to  the  sea.  The  hated 
English  had  never  been  wanted,  and  would  not  be 
allowed  to  stay.  And  since  you  continue  to  make 
no  secret  of  your  hatred,  the  same  remedy  is  now  in 
your  hands.  But  it  will  be  difficult  to  find  a  spot 
where  Mr.  Englishman  is  not  en  evidence. 

Such  was  Bloemfontein  to  those  who  saw 
into  its  heart  and  knew  its  temper.  Some  of  us 
conquerors  saw  a  little  way  behind  the  garlanded 
curtain  the  false-hearted  pretenders  of  friendship 
drew  down  before  our  faces,  but  for  what  now 
seems  a  long  time  the  Army  fed  itself  upon  the 
honeyed  lying  of  those  people  who  had  not  the 
courage  or  honesty  to  play  the  part  of  open 
enemies  to  the  last.  As  for  Tommy  Atkins,  he 
seemed  oblivious  of  everything  but  that  which 
he  enjoyed — which  was  simply  to  walk  about  the 
town  spending  his  money,  and  taking  insults  and 
bouquets  equally  as  a  matter  of  course,  just  as 
they  happened  to  come. 

Let  the  reader  note  two  things  of  the  first 
interest,  and  of  great  human  and  historic  value. 
The  persons  who  did  not  come  out  and  pretend 
to  be  our  friends  were  the  women.  The  part  of 
the  population  that  did  not  join  in  singing  "  Sol- 
diers of  the  Queen  "  was  the  feminine  part.  The 
only  person  who  openly  and  plainly  espoused  the 
403 


War's  Brighter  Side 

cause  of  the  Boers  was  Miss  Bloemfontein — a 
woman.  The  only  person  who  answered  her 
and  proudly  asserted  her  loyalty  to  Great  Britain 
was  Miss  Uitlander — a  woman. 

Everywhere  in  every  war  it  is  Lovely  Woman 
who  fans  the  flames,  who  urges  on  the  fighting, 
who  charges  the  men  to  win  or  die,  but  never  to 
give  up;  who  nurses  the  hatred  of  the  strife  to 
her  breast  and  keeps  them  hot.  Everywhere  it 
is  the  civilised  and  the  savage  woman  who  does 
this,  and  only  the  half-civilised  have  made  a  con- 
trary record,  for  I  am  told  that  in  one  strife  there 
was  an  exception.  That  was  ''  the  Mutiny  "  in 
India,  where  the  ayahs  and  other  Indian  female 
servants  stuck  to  their  posts  in  the  British  house- 
holds, and  played  no  part  in  the  awful  affair. 

But  in  the  great  Civil  War  in  America  it  was 
the  women  who  kept  the  strife  in  progress  fully 
a  year  and  a  half,  if  not  two  years,  after  their  hus- 
bands and  brothers  realised  it  was  useless,  and 
that  the  North  must  win.  "  Go,  and  do  not 
come  back  while  there  is  a  Yankee  alive!  "  they 
said  to  sweethearts,  sons,  and  brothers.  So  has 
it  ever  been  in  times  of  war.  The  women, 
roused  from  their  quiet  lives  and  excited  by  the 
animosities  which  develop  war  and  the  horrors 
which  go  with  it,  remain  undisturbed  by  the  con- 
siderations which  cause  men,  with  their  wider 
interests  and  experiences,  to  waver  in  their  faith. 
404 


False  Hearts  Around  Us 

And  among  the  savage  people  of  the  earth 
it  is,  as  a  rule,  the  women  who  garnish  war 
with  its  most  fearful  accessories.  The  bucks 
and  braves  do  the  fighting,  the  women  follow 
after  them  to  torture  the  wounded  and  mutilate 
the  dead. 

Think  you  that  this  is  a  terrible  indictment 
of  a  sex?  Do  you  see  in  this  nothing  but  the 
anger  and  the  cruelty  that  lie  on  the  surface? 
Then  you  are  to  be  pitied,  for  the  moral  of  these 
reflections  is  that  in  womanhood  is  treasured  the 
faith  which  inspires  mankind,  the  convictions 
that  nerve  our  arms  in  a  world  which  progresses 
only  through  strife,  the  enthusiasm  which  not 
even  the  hell  of  war  can  destroy. 

The  leader  of  April  14th  was  my  own,  en- 
titled '*  Mr.  Lecky  on  the  War."  Again  we  had 
a  complete  newspaper  full  of  the  too-often  de- 
layed or  strangled  Renter  despatches,  which 
told  us  of  other  wars,  in  Ashantee  and  the  Phil- 
ippines, of  the  Queen's  visit  to  Ireland,  of  the 
Prince's  narrow  escape  from  an  assassin,  and  of 
all  that  was  going  forward  in  our  own  little  con- 
tention with  the  Boers. 

This  number  was  singular  in  containing  no 
original  verse.  It  did,  however,  contain  some- 
thing more  full  of  sentiment,  and,  if  possible, 
more  unexpected  and  foreign  to  war;  to  wit:  a 
notice  of  a  wedding: — 

40s 


War's  Brighter  Side 

MARRIED 
By  special  license,  on  the  nth  inst.,  by  the  Rev. 
Franklin,  at  her  father's  house,  Alexandra  Cornelia, 
youngest  daughter  of  W.  H.  v.  Van  Andel, 
Orphan  Master,  to  Arthur  M.  Stone,  eldest  son  of 
the  late  T.  C.  Stone,  Esq.,  from  Folkestone,  Eng- 
land.   No  cards. 

Orange-blossoms  are  certainly  to  be  looked 
for  in  the  Orange  State,  but  blended  with  the 
bandages  and  laurels  of  war  they  seem  peculiar. 
One  cynic  asked  us  when  he  read  the  wedding  no- 
tice, ''  Is  this  prophetic  of  concord,  or  is  it  merely 
strife  breaking  out  in  a  new  place?  "  He  was 
a  soulless  man — I  am  sorry  I  have  quoted  or 
noticed  one  so  deficient  in  feeling,  poetry,  hu- 
manity, and  sentiment. 

In  furtherance  of  the  knowledge  that  the 
Army  was  tired  of  being  fooled,  and  growing 
weary  of  the  upstart  behaviour  of  the  too  often 
treacherous  negro  natives,  we  published  a  notice 
by  Assistant  Provost  Marshal  Burnett-Hitch- 
cock: "  No  pass  is  suflficient  for  a  native  to  pass 
through  the  outpost  lines  unless  countersigned 
by  a  StafT  Ofificer,  and  it  should  state  where  and 
whence  the  native  is  going."  Other  rigid  re- 
strictions upon  the  freedom  of  the  negroes  are 
enforced  by  this  order. 

The  same  energetic  ofificer  also  forbade  the 
selling  of  any  article  within  the  town  by  hawkers 
406 


False  Hearts  Around  Us 

and  camp  sutlers,  under  a  penalty  of  fine  on 
conviction.  This  was  in  order  to  protect  the 
local  tradesmen  from  army  competition — those 
tradesmen  who  barricaded  their  shops  when  the 
Boer  combatants  fled  from  the  town,  lest  we 
should  loot  their  stores  of  goods,  who  then 
calmly  told  us  they  put  up  the  barricades  because 
"  the  Boers  were  such  thieving  scoundrels,"  and 
who,  now  that  they  knew  our  temper  only  too 
well,  regaled  us  with  accounts  of  how,  while  they 
were  in  commando,  they  had  fought  us  at  Bel- 
mont, Graspan,  Modder,and  a  dozen  other  places. 
We  published  on  this  day  an  article  by  Mr.  H. 
Owen  Scott  on  "  The  War  Artist  of  To-day," 
in  which  he,  a  photographer,  seriously  extolled 
the  work  of  the  camera  as  compared  with  that  of 
the  genius  and  training  of  ^tjie  true  artist.  We 
hoped  the  real  artists  thus  relegated  to  a  subor- 
dinate and  vanishing  place  would  enliven  our 
columns  by  their  replies. 

THE    FRIEND. 

{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts*  Forces^ 

^  -,  BLOEMFONTEIN,  V       Price 

INO.   22J  WEDNESDAY,  APRIL   II.    1900.       L One  Penny. 

NOTICE 
The  Bands  of  the  12th  Brigade  will  play  in  the 
Market  Square  this  evening  between  the  hours  of 
4  and  6. 

407 


War's  Brighter  Side 


THE  CIRCULATION  OF  "THE  FRIEND" 

The  present  circulation  of  The  Friend  is  4,750 
copies  daily. 


WE  APOLOGIZE 

In  our  modest  way  as  Editors  of  quite  the  most 
extraordinary  newspaper  on  earth,  we  endeavoured 
to  publish  yesterday,  with  due  credit  to  the  Times, 
for  which  it  was  written,  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling's 
masterly  article  "  The  Sin  of  Witchcraft."  We  may 
as  well  acknowledge  here  and  now  that  though  The 
Friend  is  declared  to  be  edited  by  a  committee  of 
war  correspondents,  it  is,  in  fact,  the  daily  product 
of  a  struggle  between  the  correspondents  and  their 
printers,  the  latter  being  the  more  numerous,  and, 
we  sometimes  fear,  the  more  in  earnest  in  their  de- 
termination to  keep  the  paper  unique.  This  results 
in  a  paper  which  is  often  as  great  a  novelty  to  the 
Editors  as  to  the  public,  being  like  Shakespeare's 
soldier  in  "  The  Seven  Stages  of  Man,"  "  full  of 
strange  oaths,"  and  words  of  which  we  never  heard, 
and  ideas  to  which  we  never  gave  birth. 

With  this  by  way  of  preface,  will  the  Times  accept 
our  apology  for  not  crediting  it  with  Mr.  Kipling's 
article,  will  it  believe,  us  that  we  really  did  write  in 
the  "  credit  "  after  the  article,  and  will  it  commission 
its  correspondent  with  this  Army  to  go  to  our  print- 
ing works  and  reason  with  our  printers  from  "  the 
devil  "  upwards  ? 

408 


False  Hearts  Around  Us 

THE  WAR  ARTIST  OF  TO-DAY 

BY   H.    OWEN   SCOTT 

The  present  campaign  has  undoubtedly  com- 
menced a  new  era  in  the  history  of  illustrated  jour- 
nalism, which  change  has  been  brought  about  by  a 
new  school  of  war  artists,  whose  method  is  camera 
work,  and  whose  aim  is  to  faithfully  produce  the 
actualities  demanded  by  a  picture-loving,  yet  critical 
public. 

The  artistic  value  of  this  means  of  illustrating 
is  becoming  more  and  more  realised  every  day,  and 
will  prove  an  effectual  factor  in  crowding  out  the 
old-fashioned  war  artist  who  draws  on  his  imagi- 
nation. 

The  only  excuse  for  artists  of  any  description 
being  at  the  front  is  their  capacity  for  reproduc- 
ing true  and  vivid  impressions  of  what  they  have 
seen. 

This  is  where  the  importance  of  the  new  school  is 
at  once  apparent,  and  as  long  as  the  men  practising 
this  art  are  honest  and  do  not  attempt  to  foist 
"  faked  "  work  on  the  public,  their  efiforts  are  bound 
to  be  acceptable  and  of  artistic  value. 

In  speaking  of  camera  work  as  an  art  and  the 
individuals  adopting  it  as  artists,  I  do  not  include  the 
persons  who  simply  press  a  button  and  expose  yards 
of  film,  regardless  of  subject,  but  the  few  who  make 
pictures  intelligently  and  pay  as  much  attention  to 
composition  and  lighting  as  a  painter  would  when 
commencing  a  fresh  canvas.  The  camera  is  not 
409 


War's  Brighter  Side 

going  to  destroy  the  painter — and  I  say  painter  ad- 
visedly— as  no  black  and  white  artist  is  any  good 
unless  he  is  a  painter,  and  has  a  keen  appreciation  of 
colour  value.  Nature  is  teeming  with  colour,  and 
unless  this  is  felt  how  can  this  be  suggested  in  line  ? 

Why  does  Rembrandt  stand  out  as  the  greatest 
master  of  etchings?  Simply  because  his  etched 
works  suggests  colour,  and  it  is  this  power  of  sug- 
gesting colour  that  placed  Charles  Keene  head  and 
shoulders  above  all  other  black  and  white  men. 
The  power  of  selection  of  subject  is  not  developed 
in  all  artists  to  an  equal  extent,  but  there  is  always 
room  for  such  men  as  Melton  Prior,  W.  B.  Wollen, 
Lester  Ralph,  and  a  few  others,  whose  work  will 
always  be  looked  for  as  representing  actuality. 

If  the  two  schools  of  artists  mentioned  work  with 
the  full  knowledge  of  the  limitations  of  their  me- 
diums, there  will  always  be  a  place  for  both. 

The  mechanical  draughtsman  is  dead.  He  has 
been  killed  by  the  camera. 

How  would  it  be  possible  in  Fleet  Street  or  De 
Aar,  quietly  sitting  in  a  little  room  with  a  north 
light,  to  give  a  true  impression  of  Cronje's  sur- 
render, or  of  that  wonderful  sight,  the  approach  of 
the  captured  army,  like  a  cloud  of  locusts,  over  the 
expanse  of  veldt  at  Klip  Drift  ? 

If  ever  the  surrender  at  Paardeberg  is  painted,  it 
must  be  done  by  a  man  who  saw  it. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  defeated  General's  arrival, 
or  the  solemnity  of  it :  this  giant,  broken,  sulky,  his 
career  finished.    Everything  was  shown  in  the  man, 

410 


False  Hearts  Around  Us 

and  shown  in  a  way  no  imagination  could  possibly 
conceive. 

I  was  privileged  to  view  a  sketch  of  Cronje  leav- 
ing our  camp,  the  work  of  Mortimer  Menpes.  It 
was  a  vivid  slight  impression.  True,  yet  the  econo- 
my of  means — a  few  lines  wonderfully  placed — was 
wonderful,  showing  the  artist  a  great  master  of 
technique.  Now,  talented  as  he  undoubtedly  is,  he 
could  not  have  imparted  such  a  feeling  of  actuality 
to  his  work  if  he  had  not  been  present  and  studied 
his  subject  with  the  greatest  attention.  The  long- 
haired, velvet-coated  gentleman  of  Bond  Street  is 
not  the  man  to  depict  the  incidents  of  war,  or  to  put 
up  with  the  hardships  of  a  great  march,  and  I  am 
perfectly  sure  that  the  success  of  a  war  artist  de- 
pends on  physique.  He  is  required  to  tackle  his 
subject  quickly  and  vigorously.  Trickery  does  not 
help  actuality,  straightforward  manly  work  being 
absolutely  necessary  to  the  war  artist  of  to-day. 


(We  are  sure  that  if  the  men  in  this  Army  who 
are  engaged  as  artists  or  who  feel  strongly  and  lov- 
ingly the  relation  of  true  art  to  war,  to  photography 
and  to  the  refinement  of  mankind — if  these  will  take 
the  trouble  to  answer  this  letter,  we  shall  have  a  rich 
correspondence. — Editors,  Friend.) 


411 


CHAPTER    XXV 

The  End  Approaches 

JVe  arrange  to  retire  from  our  posts,  hit  also  start 
a  Portrait  Gallery 

"  The  Friend,"  No.  23 — actually  the  25th 
number  we  had  edited — contained  a  notice  that 
Mr.  Kipling  had  sailed  for  England  on  the  pre- 
vious day  (April  nth),  and  we  were  doing  our 
utmost  to  get  rid  of  our  ofifspring,  to  find  some 
one  to  adopt  it. 

As  long  ago  before  this  as  when  Sir  Alfred 
Milner  was  with  us  in  Bloemfontein,  we  had 
made  known  to  him  and  to  Lord  Roberts, 
through  Lord  Stanley,  that  the  employers  of 
certain  ones  among  us  were  complaining  of  our 
expending  part  of  their  time  and  our  energy 
upon  this  outside  work.  I  am  certain  that  no 
interest  with  which  any  of  us  were  connected 
suffered  the  least  slight  or  injury,  for  the  result 
of  our  labour  of  love  for  Lord  Roberts  was  sim- 
ply that  we  worked  twice  as  hard — and  learned 


The  End  Approaches 

twice  as  much  of  what  was  going  on  as  those 
correspondents  who  held  aloof  and  let  the 
whole  burden  fall  upon  us.  My  employer,  Mr. 
Harmsworth,  uttered  no  sound  of  criticism  or 
complaint,  by  the  way,  and  the  only  word  about 
The  Friend  that  reached  me  from  the  Daily 
Mail  was  a  cablegram  wishing  us  success. 

We  were  all  tiring  fast.  I  was  lame  with  an 
injury  which  kept  laying  me  up,  and  otherwise 
my  condition  was  such  that  for  weeks  I  had  not 
been  able  to  partake  of  any  food  except  milk  and 
soda  water.  I  owe  a  great  deal  for  moral  and 
physical  stimulus  to  Dr.  Kellner,  ex-mayor  of 
Bloemfontein  and  head  of  the  Free  State  Hos- 
pital, whose  services  to  the  British  army  should 
not  be  allowed  to  pass  into  history  without  his 
receiving  some  substantial  honour  and  acknowl- 
edgment from  this  government.  He  told  the 
noble  matron,  Miss  Maud  Young,  and  her  nurs- 
ing assistants  (when  they  gave  notice  that  they 
wished  to  leave  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war)  that 
he  "  never  heard  before  that  politics  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  care  of  sick  and  wounded 
men,"  and  up  to  that  standard  of  duty  he  worked 
on  with  them  as  enthusiastically  under  the 
Union  Jack  as  he  had  under  the  four-colour  flag. 

I  did  not  know  how  ill  and  dispirited  I  was 
until  one  evening  I  went  to  the  room  of  my 
assistant,  Mr.  Nissen,  of  the  Daily  Mail,  and 
413 


War's  Brighter  Side 

heard  through  his  closed  window  in  the  Bloem- 
fontein  Hotel  the  sound  of  a  banjo.  It  is  a 
purely  American  instrument,  and  the  plunk- 
plunk  of  its  strings  made  my  heart  leap.  I  threw 
open  the  window  and  heard  in  nasal  tones, 
affected  by  a  Yankee  colleague  for  the  purpose 
of  his  song,  a  sentiment  like  this: — 

Oh,  I  want  ter  go  back  to  Noo  York, 

Ther  "  denderloin's  "  ther  place, 
Where  the  men  are  square  and  the  women  are  fair 

And  I  know  evurry  face. 
I  want  ter  go  back  to  Noo  York 

Ter  hear  God's  people  talk. 
Yer  may  say  what  yer  please 

Only  just  give  ter  me 
My  little  old  Noo  York, 

I  felt  like  shouting,  ''  fellow  citizens,  them's  my 
sentiments."  Suddenly  I,  too,  wanted  "  ter  go 
back  ter  Noo  York  " — with  London  as  an  alter- 
native. I  had  not  known  it  or  felt  it  before, 
but  that  song,  as  new  to  me  as  any  that  will  be 
written  five  years  hence,  touched  the  button  that 
produced  a  nostalgia  which  Heaven  knows  I  had 
good  reason  to  feel  without  any  such  additional 
or  peculiar  incentive. 

Mr.  Landon  was  also  very  ill  of  what  I  took 
to  be  a  slow  African  fever.  We  laid  the  facts 
before  the  authorities,  and  suggested  that  our 
colleague,  Mr.  F.  W.  Buxton,  now  back  at  work 
with  us,  was  able  to  say  that  the  accomplished 
414 


The  End  Approaches 

staff  of  the  Johannesburg  Star  would  gladly  take 
The  Friend  off  our  hands  if  its  members  could 
be  passed  up  to  Bloemfontein  on  their  way  to 
Johannesburg.  They  were  all  receiving  salaries 
though  nearly  all  were  idle;  the  owners  had  suf- 
fered grievously  by  the  closing  of  their  estab- 
lishment at  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  and  they 
certainly  deserved  well  of  the  British  Army. 

With  this  view  our  military  editorial  chiefs 
coincided,  and  Mr.  Buxton  busied  himself  in 
arranging  for  the  coming  of  the  editors,  re- 
porters, and  printers,  and  the  transfer  of  the  little 
organ  of  the  Empire  to  their  charge. 

This  number  of  April  12th  began  with  a 
leader  on  ''  The  Queen  in  Ireland,"  and  this  was 
followed  by  a  play  upon  the  society  notes  of 
other  papers,  written  by  Mr.  Gwynne.  Our 
prolific  soldier-poet,  "  Mark  Thyme,"  contrib- 
uted two  sets  of  verses,  and  once  again  we  pub- 
lished the  news  of  the  world,  like  any  genuine 
newspaper  at  home. 

On  this  day  we  printed  our  first  "  alleged  " 
portrait.  No.  i  of  a  series  of  pictures  of  the 
notable  characters  in  town.  We  selected  Mr. 
Burdett-Coutts  as  the  leading  figure  in  this  gal- 
lery, and  made  a  most  modest  announcement 
that  we  had  secured  the  portrait  and  were  able 
to  present  it  to  our  readers. 

I  am  quite  certain  that  never  before  in  the 
28  415 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Free  State  had  a  newspaper  published  a  portrait 
made  on  the  spot  and  of  a  newly  arrived  visitor. 
There  were  in  the  Free  State  no  means  for  doing 
such  work.  But  such  is  the  non-thinking  habit 
of  the  human  race  that  not  a  soul  questioned 
what  we  announced,  or  asked  how  the  feat  was 
accomplished.  It  was  declared  to  be  a  good 
likeness  of  Mr.  Burdett-Coutts,  and  every  one 
took  it  for  granted  that  there  was  nothing  The 
Friend  and  its  editors  could  not  do  if  they  tried. 


NOTICE 

By  kind  permission  of  Lieutenant-General  Kelly- 
Kenny,  C.B.,  the  massed  bands  of  the  6th  Division 
will  play  on  the  Market  Square  from  4  to  5.30  p.m. 
on  Easter  Monday. 

SOCIETY'S  DOINGS 

BY    H.    A.    GWYNNE 

A  most  successful  dinner  was  given  by Bat- 
tery on  Saturday  night.  The  A.S.C.  awning  was 
most  artistically  arranged  between  two  buck  wag- 
gons and  was  decorated  with  much  taste,  the  junior 
subaltern  having  attached  to  it  the  fashion-plates 
and  pictorial  advertisements  from  The  Queen.  The 
"  Maggi "  soup  was  pronounced  a  success,  and  it 
was  evident  that  the  battery  chef  had  put  his  heart 
into  the  work.    A  somewhat  unpleasant  incident  oc- 

416 


The  End  Approaches 

curred  soon  after  dinner,  which  put  rather  a  damper 
on  the  evening's  hilarity  and  dispersed  the  party. 
An  order  had  come  for  one  of  the  ammunition  wag- 
gons to  go  into  Bloemfontein  to  fetch  ammunition, 
and  the  sergeant,  wholly  without  malice  prepense, 
hitched  his  horses  to  one  of  the  sides  of  the  dining- 
room  and  removed  it  suddenly.  We  are  glad  to  say 
that  the  collapse  consequent  upon  this  manoeuvre, 
although  very  disagreeable,  produced  no  injury,  and 
the  company  was  able  to  leave  sound  in  limb  but 
swearing  strange  oaths. 

Horse,  always  to  the  fore,  whether  bullets 

are  about  or  the  scarcely  less  dangerous  glances 
of  female  eyes,  entertained  at  tea  yesterday  a  great 
number  of  guests  of  both  sexes.  It  is  a  pity,  how- 
ever, that  their  camp  is  so  far  out  of  town,  for  most 
of  their  gentlemen  guests  were  obliged  to  walk 
home,  having  '*  lost  "  their  horses. 

The  Naval  Brigade  gave  a  soiree  musicale  on 
Monday  night,  which  was  perhaps  the  most  brilliant 
afifair  of  the  season.  The  proverbial  hilarity  of  sail- 
ors induced  in  their  guests  a  corresponding  feeling, 
and  songs,  toasts,  speeches  made  the  time  pass  mer- 
rily enough.  A  new  game,  the  details  of  which  we 
hope  to  give  in  a  further  issue,  was  played  with  great 
success.  It  is  called  "  Hunt  the  Tompion."  At  the 
beginning  of  the  evening  Captain  Bearcroft,  R.N., 
gave  a  most  instructive  and  bright  lecture  on  the 
"  New  Tactics — Horse  Marines." 

A  "  small  and  early  "  was  given  yesterday  by 
the  Royal  Diddlesex  Regiment.     Dancing  went  on 

417 


War's  Brighter  Side 

briskly  until  a  transport  mule  came  and  died  in  the 
extemporised  ball-room,  causing  two  ladies  to  faint. 
A  conversazione  was  given  by  the  A.S.C.  in  their 
camp  within  the  immediate  confines  of  the  town. 
The  novel  subject,  "  When  will  the  War  end?  "  was 
chosen  for  discussion.  The  arguments,  which  were 
often  of  a  highly  intellectual  grade,  were  punctuated 
by  sniping  from  trees  and  bushes  on  the  kopje  side. 
Two  of  the  attendants  who  were  distributing  the 
choice  and  light  viands  to  the  guests  were  shot. 
True,  their  wounds  were  slight,  yet  the  incident 
interrupted  the  even  tenor  of  the  conversazione. 


SOCIALISM  IN  VERSE 

BY    MARK   THYME 

Now,  I  always  was  a  'ardly-treated  bloke, 

I'm  a  martyr  to  my  cause,  as  you  may  say — < 
I  used  to  own  a  barrer  and  a  moke, 

And  I'd  sometimes  earn  a  thick-un  in  the  day. 
But  them  Socialists  they  comes  along  our  court. 

And  they  says  as  'ow  all  things  should  common 
be. 
So,  to  'elp  the  cause  on  quicker,  I  goes  off  and  lifts 
a  ticker, 

'Cause  the  bloke  'ad  no  more  right  to  it  than  me. 

Well,  for  that  I  'ad  to  do  a  bit  o'  time. 
Though  I  argued  it  afore  the  majerstrit 

As  I'd  done  it  out  o'  politics,  not  crime ; 
But  the  cuckoo  couldn't  understand  a  bit. 
418 


The   End  Approaches 

So  I  says  when  I  'ad  left  the  bloomin'  jug, 
"  I  must  strike  a  bigger  blow  to  set  us  free ; 

I  must  play  a  nobler  game."     So  I  forges  Roths- 
child's name, 
'Cause  the  bloke  'ad  no  more  right  to  it  than  me. 

Now,  living  in  a  'ouse  acrost  the  street, 

There  used  to  be  a  very  tasty  gal ; 
She'd  curly  'air  and  dainty  'ands  and  feet, 

And  was  married  to  my  very  dearest  pal. 
'E  says  to  me,  says  'e,  "  When  you're  our  way 

Step  in,  old  cull,  and  'ave  a  dish  o'  tea." 
Thinks  I,  "  My  dooty  this  is."    So  I  offs  it  with  'is 
missis, 

'Cause  the  bloke  'ad  no  more  right  to  'er  than  me. 

But  I  won't  be  beat  by  any  bloomin'  lor. 

To  'ave  my  rights,  I  tell  yer  straight,  I'm  game ; 
And,  once  I  gets  outside  this  prison  door, 

I'll  strike  another  blow  in  Freedom's  name — 
The  lor  and  all  its  engines  I  defy. 

From  the  Stepper  to  the  gloomy  gallows-tree; 
I'll  go  and  get  a  knife,  and  I'll  take  some  joker's  life, 

'Cause  the  bloke  'as  no  more  right  to  it  than  me. 

For  my  motto  is  :  All  should  be  co7tmion  to  ally 

This  covey  is  equal  to  that  j 
And  if  I'm  short  you've  no  right  to  be  tall^ 

If  Fm  thin  you've  ?io  7'ight  to  be  fat. 
To  call  me  a  criminal's  fair  tommy-rot^ 

It's  on  principle  all  what  Fve  done  : 
Yet,  perish  me,  all  the  reward  as  I've  got 

Is  my  number — 201. 

419 


War's  Brighter  Side 

" SMART " 

BY    MARK   THYME 

{Being  a  few  hints  to  any  of  the  fair  citizens  of  this  town  who 
may  contemplate  spending  a  season  or  two  in  London.^ 

Ye    Belles    of    Bloemfontein,    pray    hearken    unto 

me, 
And  I'll  show  you  how  to  sparkle  in  polite  So- 
ciety. 
Never  fear  that  you'll  be  visited  with  contumely 

or  scorn 
If  you  happen  not  to  be  aristocratically  born, 
For  mere  birth  is  not  essential  to  means,  if  only 

you 
Have  the  luck  to  be  related  to  a  brewer  or  a  few ; 
And  if  only  you  have  money,  you  need  never  be 

afraid 
To  swagger  of  the  swindles  of  your  former  days  of 
trade. 
And  your  friends,  as  they  receive  you  to  their 
heart, 
,    Each  to  each  will  the  opinion  impart : 
"  She  is  vulgar,  I  admit, 
I  don't  like  her,  not  a  bit, 
But  then  you  know,  my  dear,  she's  smart." 

Your  dress  must  be — well — daring !    You  must  have 

a  tiny  waist 
And  the  colours  must  be  splashed  about  in  execrable 

taste. 

420 


The  End  Approaches 

Your  bodice  may  be  decent  while  you've  still  the  gift 

of  youth, 
But  must  lower  in  proportion  as  you're  longer  in  the 

tooth. 
The  colour  of  your  hair  and  your  complexion  must 

appear 
To  vary  with  the  fashionable  fancies  of  the  year, 
And  though  your  wit  lack  lustre,  the  tiara  must  be 

bright 
That  you've  hired  out  from  a  jeweller's  at  ten-and- 
six  a  night. 
And  your  friends,  as  they  receive  you  to  their 

heart, 
Each  to  each  will  the  opinion  impart : 
*'  Looks  quite  odd,  I  must  admit, 
I  don't  like  her,  not  a  bit, 
But  then  you  know,  my  dear,  she's  smart." 

Then,  as  to  conversation,  let  each  syllable  you  speak 
Be  vehemently  vapid  or  else  pruriently  weak ; 
Tell    some    tales    distinctly    risky,    if    not    actually 

obscene. 
While  artfully  pretending  that  you  don't  know  what 

they  mean. 
In  the  intervals  of  slander  you  must  prate  in  flippant 

tone 
On  some  Theologic  subject  that  you'd  better  leave 

alone ; 
And,  though  your  speech  be  witless,  nay,  to  some 

may  seem  absurd, 
It  matters  not  if  reputations  die  at  every  word. 
421 


War's  Brighter  Side 

And  your  friends,  as  they  receive  you  to  their 

heart, 
Each  to  each  will  the  opinion  impart : 

"  She's  ill-natured,  I  admit, 

I  don't  like  her,  not  a  bit. 
But  then  you  know,  my  dear,  she's  smart." 

Your  parties  must  be  "  tidy,"  so  to  bring  about  these 

ends 
Find  some  lady  with  a  title  who  likes  living  on  her 

friends ; 
Hint  that  you'll  supply  the  money  that's  essential  to 

the  task. 
If  only  she  will  condescend  to  tell  you  whom  to  ask. 
On  your  former  friends  and  relatives  politely  close 

the  door. 
Though  they  may  have  been  of  service  in  the  days 

when  you  were  poor, 
Be  each  guest  of  yours  a  beauty,  full  of  pride, 
A  tiara  on  her  head,  a  co-respondent  by  her  side. 
And  your  friends,  as  they  receive  you  to  their 

heart. 
Each  to  each  will  the  opinion  impart : 
"  She's  a  snob,  I  quite  admit, 
I  don't  like  her,  not  a  bit, 
But  then  you  know,  my  dear,  she's  smart." 


OUR  PORTRAIT  GALLERY 

We  have  to  announce  the  arrival  in  Bloemfontein 

of  Mr.  Burdett-Coutts,  of  London,  of  whom  we  have 

secured  a  portrait  which  we  present  to  our  readers. 

422 


Mr.  Burdett-Coutts. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

A  number  as  sparkling  as  a  string  of  jewels — Joke 
Portrait  Number  Two 

A  SINGULAR  thing  about  The  Friend  was 
that  the  readers  could  make  sure  at  a  glance, 
each  afternoon,  what  had  been  the  spirits  of  the 
editors  earlier  in  the  day.  The  issue  of  April 
13th  was  positively  frisky.  We  were  all  in  our 
gayest  moods,  and  the  principal  page  was  made 
to  sparkle  with  most  unlooked-for  fun  and 
flashes  of  wit. 

Mr.  Landon  set  out  with  his  pen  in  search 
of  an  English  millionaire  who  would  supply  us 
daily  with  a  budget  of  home  news  cabled  direct 
to  us  from  London.  Continually  disappointed 
by  the  non-arrival  of  the  Reuter  despatches,  he 
urged  that  som.e  wealthy  man  should  pay  to  have 
a  long  special  cablegram  sent  to  us  daily,  with  a 
hint  of  all  the  world's  happenings.  "To  us," 
did  I  say?  no;  for,  as  Mr.  Landon  expressed  it, 
"  All  there  is  of  The  Friend  belongs  to  the 
423 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Army.  Its  existence  began  for  the  soldier,  and 
its  profits  pass  back  to  his  interests.  If  some  of 
the  kind-hearted  people  in  England  who  are  so 
ready  to  put  their  hands, in  their  pockets  in  the 
interests  of  '  The  Soldiers  of  the  Queen,'  only 
knew  what  the  dearth  of  news  from  England 
means  to  the  men,  they  would  at  once  supply  the 
want."  It  is  too  late  now.  That  editorial 
never  was  copied  in  the  English  papers,  I  sup- 
pose; but  you  millionaires  who  want  to  reach 
Heaven — and  you  others  who  want  to  earn 
handles  to  put  before  your  names — remember 
this  in  the  next  war,  and  send  news  to  your  army 
wherever  it  is  halted  in  the  field. 

We  found  that  the  newsboys  were  charging 
twopence  for  The  Friend,  and  that  many  com- 
plaints were  pouring  in  upon  us;  therefore,  in 
the  blackest  type,  I  rhymed  to  the  readers — that 
being  the  most  likely  way  to  impress  them  with 
the  truth — in  couplets  such  as  this — 

Who  pays  a  penny  for  The  Friend, 
Pays  all  he  needs  to  gain  his  end. 

and  this — 

Whoever  pays  us  more  than  a  penny, 
Should  guard  his  brains,  if  he  has  any. 

Fancy  me  dropping  into  rhyme!  But  as  I 
have  said,  "  The  Tommies  "  all  did  verse — or 
worse — and  the  example  was  epidemically  conta- 
gious.     Perhaps  in  another  month  we  should 

424 


Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

have  all  turned  versifiers,  and  produced  copies  of 
The  Friend  wholly  in  rhyme. 

In  this  number  we  pubhshed  portrait  No.  2 
of  our  unique  gallery,  selecting  Lord  Stanley  as 
the  subject.  My  son  Lester  had  made  a  cartoon 
in  which  he  figured,  and  with  which,  for  a  very 
peculiar  reason,  Lord  Stanley  was  not  pleased, 
but  this  second  venture  of  the  family  to  do  him 
justice  in  portraiture  was  eminently  successful. 
It  was  precisely  the  same  picture  as  that  which 
we  called  a  portrait  of  Burdett-Coutts  on  the 
previous  day,  but  though  Lord  Stanley  knew  the 
joke  no  one  else  saw  it.  One  of  our  gifted  cen- 
sor's most  intimate  friends  took  from  me  a  damp 
fresh  copy  of  the  paper,  as  I  came  out  of  the 
works  with  an  armful,  and  looking  at  the  portrait 
remarked,  "  I  say,  I  did  not  know  that  Lord 
Stanley  had  a  goatee — funny  I  never  noticed 
that  he  wears  one.  Devilish  good  portrait; 
clever  of  you  to  publish  it."  Mr.  Burdett- 
Coutts  was  the  only  other  man  beside  Lord 
Stanley  to  understand  what  we  were  doing.  He 
fathomed  the  joke  because  we  explained  it  to 
him,  but  I  am  a  little  afraid  that  he  did  not 
appreciate  the  pure  fun  and  harmless  pleasantry 
of  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  conceived  and  car- 
ried out. 

We  had,  from  a  coloured  man,  a  letter  com- 
plaining that  he  had  seen  that  we  declared  a  part 
425 


War's  Brighter  Side 

of  the  British  policy  to  be  ''  equal  rights  for  all 
white  men,  without  respect  of  race  or  creed." 
To  this  he  objected — as  coloured  men  are  apt  to 
do  to  any  provision  short  of  the  best  in  their  be- 
half, the  world  around.  He  said  that  we  were 
advocating  the  policy  of  the  RepubUcs,  and 
added,  "  I  would  like  to  point  out  to  you  that 
when  once  your  policy  is  known  in  this  colony 
by  our  people  it  will  cause  universal  dissatisfac- 
tion." If  I  could  show  the  English  reader  a  few 
pictures  of  his  people  as  we  saw.  them,  clothed  in 
their  complexions,  Uving  in  huts  made  of  twigs 
and  matting,  and  only  unhappy  when  they  ab- 
sorbed the  monstrous  notion  of  their  ability  to 
leap  from  savagery  to  equal  rights  with  ultra- 
civilised  people,  then  the  reader  would  know 
what  it  would  otherwise  require  an  especial  book 
to  tell  him. 

We  did  succeed  in  arousing  an  artist  to  de- 
fend his  calling  against  the  boasts  of  the  mechan- 
ical manipulation  of  the  camera.  Mr.  W.  B.  Wol- 
len,  R.I.,  was  the  champion  of  art,  and  he  spoke 
for  it  with  the  ardour  of  conviction,  and  the  force 
of  one  who  is  right  and  cannot  be  gainsaid. 

I  cannot  think  why  we  omitted  to  call  upon 
Mortimer  Menpes,'  Esq.,  the  distinguished  paint- 
er, then  in  Bloemfontein,  to  add  his  views  to  the 
series  of  letters  we  hoped  to  secure  upon  this  sub- 
ject, the  Camera  v.  Art.  Mr.  Menpes  had  come 
426 


Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

to  the  war  because,  he  said,  nothing  else  was 
talked  or  thought  of  in  London  and  an  exhibi- 
tion of  paintings  of  ordinary  subjects  such  as 
he  gives  with  distinguished  success  each  year, 
would  have  fallen  flat.  He  was  very  busy,  very 
popular,  and  very  successful  with  the  army. 
This  issue  (April  13)  contained  a  witty  letter  by 
him  upon  the  postage  stamp  craze. 


Price  : 
One  Penny. 


THE    FRIEND. 


Price  : 
One  Penny. 


{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    GOOD    FRIDAY,    APRIL    I3,    I900. 

PROCLAMATION 

TO  THE  INHABITANTS  OF  THE  DISTRICTS  OF  ALBERT, 
STEYNSBURG,  MOLTENO,  WODEHOUSE,  ALIWAL 
NORTH,  BARKLY  EAST  AND   COLESBERG 

On  the  recent  retirement  of  the  enemy  to  the 
north  of  the  Orange  River,  the  rebels  who  had 
joined  them  in  the  Northern  Districts  of  Cape  Col- 
ony were  treated  by  Her  Majesty's  Government 
with  great  leniency  in  being  permitted,  if  not  the 
ringleaders  of  disaffection,  to  return  to  their  farms 
on  the  condition  of  surrendering  their  arms  and  of 
being  liable  to  be  called  to  account  for  their  past 
conduct. 

I  now  warn  the  inhabitants  of  the  Northern  Dis- 
tricts, and  more  particularly  those  who  were  mis- 
427 


War's  Brighter  Side 

guided  enough  to  join  or  assist  the  enemy,  that,  in 
the  event  of  their  committing  any  further  act  of 
hostiHty  against  Her  Majesty,  they  will  be  treated, 
as  regards  both  their  persons  and  property,  with 
the  utmost  rigour,  and  the  extreme  penalties  of 
Martial  Law  will  be  enforced  against  them. 
Roberts,  Field  Marshal, 

Commander-in-Chief,  South  Africa. 
Army  Headquarters,  Bloemfontein,  April  9,  1900. 


OUR  PORTRAIT  GALLERY 
It  is  with  great  pleasure  that  we  present  to  our 
readers  to-day  a  portrait  of  Lord  Stanley,  the  pres- 
ent popular  Press  Censor  with  Lord  Roberts'  Field 
Force  in  South  Africa.  The  portrait  is  by  W.  B. 
Wollen,  R.I.,  and  is  a  masterpiece.  We  like  it,  but 
we  are  surprised  that  the  censor  should  wear  pre- 
cisely such  an  antediluvian  collar  as  we  saw  on 
Mr.  Burdett-Coutts  in  yesterday's  view  of  our  Por- 
trait Gallery.  

THE  ABSENT-BODIED  BURGHER 

BY    A.    B.    PATERSON 

/?  Screaming  Farce  now  being  played  daily  with  great  success  in 

the  Theatre  of  War  near  Bloernfontein. 

Characters  : 

1.  Jacobus  Johannes  van  der  Mauser  (The 
absent-bodied  Burgher). 

2.  KatinkA  van  der  Mauser  (His  Wife). 

3.  Reginald  Talbot  de  Vere-Crcesus  (Eng- 
lish Cavalry  Officer). 

428 


Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

Scene:  A  Farm  in  the  Free  State.  Pony  sad- 
dled at  the  door.  J.  J.  van  der  Mauser  prepar- 
ing to  mount. 

J.  J.  VAN  DER  Mauser  (Centre  of  Stage).  Ka- 
tinka!  Katinka!  Bring  me  the  old  rifle  that  is  in 
the  barn  among  the  sheep-skins.  The  old  muzzle- 
loading  Boer  rifle,  with  which  my  ancestor,  the 
great  Tenbritches  van  der  Mauser  shot  the  lion  in 
the  days  of  the  Great  Trek. 

Katinka  :  Nay,  Jan !  Pause  and  reflect !  Twill 
blow  thy  head  off.  It  has  not  been  fired  these 
thirty  years. 

Jan  :  Nay,  woman !  I  purpose  not  to  fire  it.  I 
intend  to  hand  it  in  to  the  British — I  only  wish 
they'd  try  to  let  it  off !  Then  will  I  return  speedily, 
provided  with  a  pass,  and  go  into  the  laager  to  do 
a  little  Rooinek  shooting.  While  I  am  gone,  Ka- 
tinka, be  not  afraid.  The  English  will  put  a  sentry 
on  the  farm  so  that  not  a  blade  of  grass  shall  be 
touched,  not  an  onion  taken  from  the  ground.  Be 
diligent,  and  sell  them  all  the  -butter  you  can. 

Katinka  :  The  proclamation  says  the  price  of 
butter  is  to  be  two-and-sixpence  a  pound ! 

Jan  :  Then  don't  take  a  penny  less  than  three 
shillings  and  sixpence.  If  you  run  short  of  milk, 
drive  in  the  cows  of  our  neighbour  Smith,  who  has 
fled  to  the  English.  And  Katinka  (zvhispers  tender- 
ly), if  you  see  the  Rooineks  out  in  the  open,  don't 
stand  anywhere  near  them,  darling!  You  might 
get  hit!     You  understand?    Now,  farewell! 

(Proceeds  to  pull  ojt  an  extra  pair  of  breeches,  and 
429 


War's  Brighter  Side 

so  goes  off  to  the  laager^  while  the  band  plays  "  My  dear 
old  Dutchr) 

[Interval  of  some  days,  during  which  the  British 
encamp  near  the  farm,  and  Katinka  sells  them,  at 
famine  prices,  every  drop  of  milk  and  every  pound 
of  butter  that  the  cows  will  yield,  and  every  tgg  that 
the  hens  can  be  induced  to  lay.] 

SCENE  TWO 

The  open  veldt.  Row  of  kopjes  in  the  middle 
distance.  Enter  cavalry  patrol  with  Reginald  Talbot 
Vere-Croesus  at  their  head.  (Band  playing,  "  Let 
'em  all  come.") 

First  Soldier  :  I  thought  I  heard  a  rifle  shot. 

Reginald  Talbot  de  V.-C.  :  Nay.  'Twas  but  a 
soldier  being  shot  for  stealing  a  bar.  of  soap  from  an 
enemy's  cottage.  Serve  the  miscreant  right.  Take 
open  order,  there.    Walk,  march ! 

They  ride  roufid  the  stage  with  one  eye  on  the  kopjes 
and  the  other  admii'ing  the  fit  of  their  breeches.  Rifle 
shots  are  heard  from  the  kopjes.  Band  changes  to,  "  You 
never  know  your  Luck!**  Heavy  rattle  of  musketry 
from  kopjes.  Patrol  driven  back  and  retire  to  pom-pom 
accompaniment  from  the  big  drum.  R.  T.  de  Y.-Q.  falls 
prone  from  his  charger.  Katinka  rushes  in  (^^nue") 
weeping  hysterically  and  throws  herself  on  his  body. 

Enter  Jacobus  Johannes  van  der  Mauser 
(/.^.),  and  leans  on  his  rifle,  staring  gloomily  at  the 
scene. 

Jacobus  :  Ha !  ha !  So  it  has  come  to  this !  She 
secretly  loves  the  young  English  officer  who  re- 
430 


Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

connoitres  kopjes  with  an  eye-glass !  (Sticks  his 
chin  out,  claws  the  air  and  ambles  about  the  stage  a 
la  Henry  Irving.)  But  I  will  be  revenged!  Ha! 
ha!  I  have  it!  I  will  go  and  join  the  Johannes- 
burg police !    False  woman,  what  sayest  thou  ? 

Katinka  (hysterically) :  I  am  innocent,  Johannes. 
I  am  innocent!  (Coils  herself  round  the  body  of 
R.  T.  de  V'-C.  a  la  Sarah  Bernhardt.) 

Jacobus:  Innocent!    Then  why  weepest  thou? 

Katinka  (rising  suddenly) :  Weep !  I  should 
think  I  would  weep.  Didn't  he  owe  us  three  pound 
seventeen  and  sixpence  for  milk!  How  am  I  to 
make  the  dairy  pay  if  you  persist  in  shooting  my 
best  customers  ? 

(Jacobus  embraces  her.  Reginald  Talbot  de 
Vere-Crgesus  being,  fortunately,  shot  exactly  through 
the  head  with  a  Mauser  bullet,  recovers  at  once  and  em- 
braces her  also,  and  joins  in  a  song-and- dance  trio,  "  Be 
careful  what  you're  doing  with  the  gun,''  and  the  curtain 
falls  to  the  tune  of,  "  //  mustn't  occur  again.") 

Note. — This  farce  will  be  continued  till  further 
orders.  A.  B.  P. 


THE  WAR  ARTIST  OF  TO-DAY 

To  the  Editors  of  The  Friend, — Sirs, — The 
present  campaign  has  most  decidedly,  as  your  corre- 
spondent in  The  Friend  of  the  nth  says,  com- 
menced a  new  era  in  the  history  of  illustrated  jour- 
nalism, but  not  to  the  extent  that  he  thinks. 

The  camera  and  the  pencil  can,  and  will,  live 

29  431 


War's  Brighter  Side 

together  during  a  campaign,  but  I  venture  to  doubt 
if  the  camera  will  be  able  to  do  all  that  its  champion 
claims  for  it,  and  the  war  artist  who  knows  his  busi- 
ness, which  cannot  be  learnt  in  a  single  campaign, 
will  come  out  on  top.  For  reproducing  and  putting 
before  the  public  scenes  representing  the  strife  and 
clamour  of  war,  with  its  accompanying  noise  and 
confusion,  the  man  with  the  kodak  cannot  compete 
for  one  single  moment  with  the  individual  who  is 
using  the  pencil. 

How  can  he  produce  a  picture  that  will  show 
the  public  at  large  anything  like  an  accurate  bird's- 
eye  view  of  what  a  modern  battle  is  like  ?  The  brain 
of  the  camera  cannot  take  in  all  that  is  going  on. 
The  man  with  the  pencil  does  so.  A  few  Hues  to 
indicate  the  back-ground  and  the  characteristics  of 
it,  and  he  is  able  to  put  before  the  world  what  has 
taken  place,  that  is  if  he  knows  and  has  seen  what 
troops  have  been  doing. 

In  another  paragraph  there  is  a  sentence  which  is 
a  very  unjust  reflection  upon  "  the  old-fashioned 
war  artists,  who  draw  on  their  imagination."  I 
should  very  much  like  to  know  who  the  old-fash- 
ioned war  artists  can  be  who  are  referred  to  in  this 
manner.  The  few  men  who  are  still  alive,  and  there 
never  were  many  of  them,  are  all  men  who  have 
seen  a  large  amount  of  fighting,  have  sketched  and 
worked  under  fire,  sent  their  work  home  often  under 
enormous  difficulties,  and  been  in  very  many  tight 
places.  Why  should  these  men  be  referred  to  in 
this  way? 

432 


Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

I  suppose  there  has  not  been  one  single  cam- 
paign in  which  the  camera  has  been  in  such  frequent 
use,  but  is  it  possible,  by  this  means,  to  bring  before 
us  the  various  phases  of  a  battle — a  modern  battle, 
I  mean,  with  its  absence  of  smoke,  enormous  ex- 
panse of  front  and  general  invisibility  of  both  the 
attackers  and  defenders  ?  Take  a  battery  in  action. 
Can  it  show  us  the  excitement  and  turmoil  round 
the  guns,  will  it  show  us  (unless  it  is  a  cinemato- 
graph) the  trouble  amongst  the  teams  when  a  shell 
drops  near  them?  I  think  not.  What  it  can  do, 
and  does,  is  scenes  which  are  more  or  less  peaceful, 
such  as  camp  views,  incidents  in  regimental  life 
and  also  bits  on  the  line  of  march,  but  of  an  action 
— no !  None  of  us  artists  are  at  variance  with  Mr. 
Scott  in  other  parts  of  his  very  able  letter,  and  we 
cordially  welcome  the  camera  artist,  knowing  very 
well  that  he  has  his  field  of  work  in  which  we  cannot 
hope  to  compete  with  him  for  a  moment,  but  to  put 
the  camera,  which,  after  all,  is  only  a  very  fine  piece 
of  mechanism,  on  a  par  with  a  sketch  is  more  than 
most  people  can  put  up  with,  especially 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

W.    B.   WOLLEN,   R.I. 


CHESTNUTTY— BUT  GOOD 
To  the  Editors  of  The  Friend, — Sirs, — Is  this  a 
chestnut  ?    Johannes  Paulus  Kruger  sent  a  commis- 
sioner home  to  England  to  find  out  if  there  were 
any  more  men  left  there.    The  commissioner  wired 

433 


War's  Brighter  Side 

from  London  to  say  that  there  were  4,000,000  men 
and  women  ''  knocking  about  the  town,"  that  there 
was  no  excitement,  and  that  men  were  begging  to 
be  sent  to  fight  the  Boers.  Kruger  wired  back  "  Go 
North/'  The  commissioner  found  himself  in  New- 
castle eventually  and  wired  to  Kruger,  "  For  God's 
sake,  stop  the  war!  England  is  bringing  up  men 
from  hell,  eight  at  a  time,  in  cages !  " 
He  had  seen  a  coal  mine. 


Circulation,  April  ii,  5,500 

The  circulation  of  The  Friend  is  as  large  as 
that  of  all  the  Bloemfontein  papers  combined.^ 


DOTS  OR  NO  DOTS 
All  about  the  New  Stamp  Issue 

BY    MORTIMER   MENPES 

How  strange  a  thing  it  is  that  so  small  a  matter 
as  a  general  taste  for  collecting  stamps  should,  as  it 
were,  elevate  a  man  at  a  single  bound  into  a  position 
where  his  slightest  tact  at  discrimination  in  detecting 
the  difference  of  shades  between  two  bits  of  paper 

'  This  was  a  transparent  joke,  as  there  was  no  other  pa- 
per in  the  town.  But,  joking  apart,  there  never  had  been  a 
newspaper  in  that  country  or  region  with  such  a  circulation 
as  ours  enjoyed ;  yet  it  could  have  been  twice  as  large  had 
we  employed  our  carts  to  circulate  it  in  the  outlying  camps. 
-J.  R. 

434 


Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

of  the  same  colour  will  sway  and  determine  the 
destinies  of  a  horde  of  fanatical  collectors. 

That  a  man  should  occupy  so  exalted  a  position 
was  accidentally  brought  to  my  notice  after  a  return 
to  Bloemfontein  from  a  run  to  the  Cape,  where  I 
found  the  Market  Square,  the  club,  the  hotels  and 
the  street  corners  grouped  with  people  who  ap- 
peared to  be  intensely  interested  in  the  discussion  of 
some  all-important  subject.  Thinking  that  some 
radical  proclamation  had  been  issued,  I  paused  to 
listen,  but  instead  of  legal  phrase  and  technical  form 
greeting  my  ear,  the  only  intelligible  word  which  I 
could  detect  in  the  buzz  which  emanated  from  the 
centre  of  the  group  was  "  Dot." 

I  passed  on  to  another  group  where  the  same 
"  dot  "  arrested  my  attention ;  then  to  a  third,  which 
was  also  "  dotty,"  until,  feeble  and  bewildered,  I 
helplessly  wandered  about  on  the  verge  of  an  incur- 
able "  dottiness  "  myself. 

Finally,  I  pulled  myself  together  again  and,  blind 
to  all  danger,  plunged  into  a  group  of  ''  dotters," 
grasped  one  of  them  by  the  arm,  and  in  reply  to  my 
appeals  heard  him  hiss,  as  he  roughly  shook  me  off, 
**  Surcharged  stamps,  you  fool,  misprinted,  without 
dots."  Then  I  understood.  My  curiosity  was 
stimulated,  I  soon  learned  the  subtle  differences 
which  add  to  subtract  value  from  the  surcharged 
Free  State  stamps.  Finally  I  became  the  proud 
possessor  of  a  dotless  one  myself.  That  settled  it ; 
I  became  hopelessly  "  dotty  "  myself,  and  to  the  end 
of  my  natural  days  will  always  realise  that  affairs  of 

435 


War's  Brighter  Side 

State,  literature,  art,  even  money,  are  secondary  to 
the  importance  of  obtaining  "  the  entire  set,"  espe- 
cially if  they  are  from  ''  the  bottom  row  "  and  "  dot- 
less."  This  mania  has  taken  possession  of  the 
entire  army. 

From  Tommy  to  General,  the  last  biscuit  or  a 
drink  of  whisky,  or  a  pass  to  be  out  after  8  p.m.  can 
be  extracted  after  a  dozen  refusals  by  producing  a 
dotless  stamp. 

Kruger  could  end  this  cruel  war  in  an  afternoon 
by  simply  sending  out  a  dozen  men  mounted  on 
swift  horses,  wearing  white  coats  with  the  entire  set 
without  dots  pasted  on  the  back.  These  scouts 
should  be  unarmed  and  should  ride  in  close  to  our 
lines  and  then  turn  round  showing  their  backs.  The 
moment  the  army  would  see  the  set,  they  would 
make  a  rush,  and  all  the  scouts  would  have  to  do 
would  be  to  ride  fast  enough  and  in  different  direc- 
tions, and  by  nightfall  the  Imperial  forces  would  be 
hopelessly  scattered  and  lost  in  the  boundless  veldt. 
Kruger's  scouts  would  be  perfectly  safe,  for  no  one 
would  dare  to  raise  a  rifle  in  their  direction.  Such 
an  act  might  bring  down  a  set ;  but  imagine  if  you 
can  the  fate  of  the  miscreant  if  one  dotless  stamp 
should  be  punctured  or  if,  horrible  thought!  a 
chance  scattering  of  the  lead  should  dot  some  of  the 
precious  bits  of  paper ! 

In  my  inquiries  during-the  first  stage  of  this  dis- 
ease, I  found  that  Major  O'Meara  was  the  supreme 
authority  on  this  subject.  I  found  the  Major  seated 
in  a  small  room  of  the  National  Bank  sorting  out 

436 


Wanted,  a  Millionaire 

from  a  huge  collection  the  stamps  which  were  to  be 
surcharged.  For  three  hours  I  watched  him,  as  with 
wonderful  skill  and  discrimination  he  picked  out  bits 
of  paper  which  were  obsolete  and  which  an  acci- 
dental surcharging  would  have  made  of  untold 
value,  and  set  the  whole  world  of  collectors  into  a 
palpitating  hysteria  of  speculation,  until  finally  cata- 
logued and  bought  by  some  multi-millionaire  bent 
upon  ruining  himself  to  appease  his  craze.  That  all 
the  legally  surcharged  stamps  are  carefully  cata- 
logued in  the  Major's  busy  brain  will  doubtless 
surprise  at  some  no  distant  date  a  few  rascally  specu- 
lators, who,  possessing  obsolete  issues,  have  sur- 
reptitiously surcharged  them,  in  the  hope  of  creating 
a  rarity  to  sell  at  fabulous  prices.  Leaving  the 
Major's  presence,  I  realised  that  the  last  stage  of 
dotlessphobia  had  fastened  itself  on  me,  and,  know- 
ing that  recovery  is  hopeless,  have  abandoned  my- 
self to  full  indulgence,  hoping  to  derive  at  least  some 
miserable  satisfaction  before  the  end.  With  this 
one  reservation,  I  am  determined  never  to  surrender 
to  the  universal  stamp  collector's  weakness  of  steal- 
ing. Others  may  walk  uprightly  through  six  days 
of  the  week  about  their  ordinary  affairs  and  turn 
aside  on  Sunday  afternoon  from  the  path  of  blind- 
ness to  pilfer  another  collector's  treasure  while  his 
face  is  turned  away,  out  of  politeness,  to  sneeze. 
But  I ;  no,  I  shall  never,  never,  no— I  won't  steal. 


437 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

A    Notable    Number 

Captain  Cecil  Lowther  joins  the  Wits  and  Poets 
again.  A  Report  by  Mr.  Jenkins,  who  was 
**  our  Staff  in  himself  " 

Mr.  Buxton  wrote  the  stern  editorial 
*'  Judge  ye,"  with  which  we  led  off  the  issue  of 
April  14th.  He  reminded  the  Free  Staters  that 
England  had,  at  the  outset,  no  quarrel  with 
them,  but  on  the  contrary  had  given  them  the 
**  solemn  assurance "  that  their  independence 
and  territory  should  be  respected.  The  people 
of  the  little  Republic  had  been  led  astray,  had 
suffered  conquest,  and  now  were  able  to  judge 
between  the  wicked  whisperings  of  the  two  Pres- 
idents and  the  promptings  of  common  sense  and 
of  regard  for  their  future,  "  for,"  wrote  Mr.  Bux- 
ton, ''  brothers  you  must  be  with  us,  heirs  and 
possessors  of  worldwide  citizenship  and  Empire." 

We  had  recorded  our  first  wedding,  and  now 
was  the  day  when  we  received  the  first  applica- 
tion from  an  English  firm  desiring  to  advertise 
in  our  columns.     Messrs.  Oetzmann  &  Co.,  of 
438 


A  Notable  Number 

Hampstead  Road,  W.,  were  the  enterprising  in- 
quirers. They  said  that  they  looked  for  a  great 
development  of  the  country  and  meant  to  send 
agents  there  when  the  war  ended.  On  our  part 
we  made  this  request  the  basis  of  an  editorial  in 
which  we  said  that  this  business  letter  ''  fore- 
shadows the  coming  changes  in  local  conditions 
with  a  prophetic  touch." 

Mr.  Gwynne  concocted  a  clever  set  of  quota- 
tions which  he  called  "  Gleanings  from  Great 
Minds,"  and  we  pubhshed  number  three  of  our 
series  of  home-made  portraits,  choosing  Dr.  A. 
Conan  Doyle  as  the  subject.  At  this  the  Army 
at  last  began  to  whisper  and  suspect,  and  many 
a  smile  greeted  each  allusion  to  our  enterprise. 

But  our  chef  d'osuvre  was  a  second  contribu- 
tion by  "  Bertie,"  whom  all  our  readers  knew  to 
be  none  other  than  the  handsome,  the  witty,  the 
travelled,  and  the  popular  Adjutant  of  the  Scots 
Guards,  Captain  Cecil  Lowther.  As  the  first 
letter  had  already  been  published  in  the  House- 
hold Brigade  Magazine  I  will  not  repeat  it  here, 
but  the  one  that  is  now  reproduced  will  give  a 
lively  hint  of  what  our  readers  missed  by  the  fact 
that  Captain  Lowther  was  away  on  duty  in  the 
boggy,  sodden  veldt,  and  could  neither  write  nor 
think  of  writing,  even  to  The  Friend. 

A  large  collection  is  made  from  this  issue  of 
the  paper  of  April  14th.  All  that  is  in  this  book 
439 


War's  Brighter  Side 

reflects  the  excitement,  the  routine,  and  the  dra- 
matic and  picturesque  phases  of  a  soldier's  life, 
as  well  as  the  strange  situations  and  conditions 
produced  by  the  conquest  and  occupation  of  a 
city  in  war.  If  that  is  true  (and  it  is  true  in  a 
very  great  degree  as  I  believe),  then  in  no  chap- 
ter are  more  of  all  these  novel  views  of  irregular 
life  mirrored  than  in  this.  From  this  you  shall 
learn  what  a  soldier  had  in  the  way  of  rations, 
how  a  great  and  majestic  mind  dealt  with  the 
rumours  that  British  prisoners  were  being  far 
from  generously,  or  even  humanely,  dealt  with 
by  the  semi-civilised  foe;  how  a  polished  wit  out 
of  his  superabundant  humour  found  time  to  set 
down  his  sparkling  thoughts  in  a  soaking  wet 
camp  or  a  cold,  wet  plain,  within  sniping  dis- 
tance of  the  enemy,  and  finally,  how  drained  of 
almost  every  line  of  foodstuffs,  medicines,  cloth- 
ing, and  luxuries  the  over-burdened  town  we 
lived  in  was  becoming. 


Price  : 
One  Penny. 


THE    FRIEND. 


Price  : 
One  Penny. 


{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  ivith  Lord  Roberts*  Forces^ 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    SATURDAY,    APRIL    I4,    I900. 

SICK  AND  WOUNDED  PRISONERS 
The    following    communication    has    been    ad- 
dressed to  President  Kruger: — 
440 


A  Notable  Number 

From  Field  Marshal  Lord  Roberts,  Commanding  in 
Chief  in  South  Africa,  to  His  Honour  the  Presi- 
dent, S.  A.  Republic,  Pretoria, 

April  12,  1900. 

It  has  been  reported  to  me  that  the  Non-Com- 
missioned  Officers  and  men  of  Her  Majesty's  Co- 
lonial Forces,  who  have  been  made  prisoners  of 
war,  are  treated  as  criminals  and  confined  in  Pre- 
toria jail,  where  they  are  very  badly  fed.  It  has 
also  been  brought  to  my  notice  that  at  the  beginning 
of  March  there  were  ninety  cases  of  enteric  fever 
and  dysentery  among  the  Non-Commissioned  Offi- 
cers and  men  in  the  camp  at  Waterval,  and  that,  as 
Dr.  Haylett,  the  Medical  Officer  in  charge,  failed 
to  obtain  from  your  Government  the  medicines  and 
medical  comforts  which  he  required  for  the  sick, 
he  resigned.  Dr.  von  Greldt  being  appointed  in 
his  place. 

It  is  stated  that  the  prisoners  at  Waterval  have  to 
bivouac  on  the  open  veldt  without  overhead  shelter 
and  with  only  a  layer  of  straw  to  lie  on,  while  the 
sick  are  placed  under  an  open  shed  with  iron  roof. 
I  am  informed  that  it  was  only  upon  Dr.  von  Greldt 
threatening  to  resign  that  medicines  and  mattresses 
were  supplied  for  the  sick.  I  can  hardly  believe 
that  your  Honour  is  aware  or  approves  of  the  harsh 
treatment  of  the  prisoners  belonging  to  the  Colonial 
Forces,  or  of  the  want  of  consideration  shown  to 
the  prisoners  at  Waterval.  The  former  are  Her 
Majesty's  subjects,  are  duly  enlisted,  are  subject  to 
military  discipline,  and  wear  uniform.  According 
441 


War's  Brighter  Side 

to  the  recognised  customs  of  war,  they  are  entitled 
to  be  treated  in  the  same  way  as  any  other  soldiers 
of  Her  Britannic  Majesty,  and  I  must  remind  your 
Honour  that  all  prisoners  captured  by  the  troops 
under  my  command  are  equally  well  treated,  whether 
they  are  burghers  or  foreigners.  The  utmost  care 
has  been  taken  of  your  sick  and  wounded,  and  no 
distinction  has  been  made  in  the  field  hospitals  be- 
tween them  and  our  own  soldiers. 

I  invite  your  Honour's  early  attention  to  this 
matter,  and  I  request  that  orders  may  be  given  for 
the  Non-Commissioned  Officers  and  men  of  the 
Colonial  Forces  to  be  released  from  jail  and  to  be 
treated,  not  as  criminals,  but  as  prisoners  of  war. 

I  also  request  that  the  prisoners  at  Waterval  may 
be  provided  with  overhead  shelter,  and  that  the  sick 
and  wounded  may  be  properly  entertained  and  taken 
care  of  in  accordance  with  Article  Six  of  the  Geneva 
Convention. 


MY  COMRADES'  CONVERSATION 
(anonymous) 

When  I  was  quite  a  young  recruit,  not  very  long 

ago, 
My   comrades'   conversation   was   a   talk   I   didn't 

know; 
I  really  thought  to   some  far-distant  country   I'd 

been  shipped 
When  they  said  I  was  a  "  jowler,"  and  described 

me  as  "  just  nipped." 

443 


A  Notable  Number 

If  I  was  "  slightly  dragged/'  or  with  my  "  praco  " 

couldn't  cope, 
They  said  I'd  "  lost  my  monnicker  "  and  earned  an 

"  extra  slope," 
And,  though  I'm  known  as  Ferdinand  to  all  my  kin 

and  kith, 
They  went  and  dropped  my   Christian  name  and 

called  me  "  Dusty  Smith." 
They  called  me  "  Dusty  Smith." 

But  a  soldier  s  life  is  the  life  for  me^ 

And  the  foe  shall  ne'er  alarm  me^ 
For  you  won't  feel  queer  on  ^''Drug-hole  beer^'* 

Whafs  called  "  three-thick  "  in  the  Army. 

I  asked  them  what  my  food  would  be.    They  said : 

"Your  food?    Oh  that's 
'Meat,'   '  jipper,'   'spuds'  and   '  rooti,'   with  occa- 
sional '  top-hats.'  " 
They  said  I'd  find  coal-hugging  quite  a  lively  little 

job, 
Then  they  put  me  "  on  the  timber  "  and  they  called 

me  "  Junior  Swab." 
But  when  my  work  was  over,  after  "  tapping  up  " 

a  bit, 
I'd  take  my  own  "  square  missus  "  out — you  bet  we 

made  a  hit. 
And  when  I  had  to  go  on  guard  she'd  come  there 

every  day 
To  see  me  marching  down  the  street  and  hear  the 

"  fiddlers  "  play. 
Just  to  hear  the  ''  fiddlers  "  play. 

443 


War's  Brighter  Side 

So  a  soldier  s  life  is  the  lifefo?'  fne^ 

And  the  foe  shall  ne'er  alarm  7ne^ 
As  I  slops  my  gun  in  Number  One 

Whafs  called  "  Long- Swabs  "  in  the  Army. 

But  now  I  understand  them  'cause  I  know  my  way 

about, 
And     comprehend     the     Sergeant's     unintelHgible 

shout ; 
When  he  says :  "  Shooldare  Hipe !  "  I  know  that  he 

means  :  *'  Shoulder  hup  " 
So  I'm  never  for  "  Small-dodgers  "  and  I  never  got 

'*  Built-up." 
I'm  not  a  mere  "  Jam-soldier,"  I've  extended  sure 

enough. 
And  been  made  "  Assistant-bully  "  so  I  help  to  cook 

the  "  Duff." 
I  keep  my  kit  and  rifle  clear,  so's  never  to  be  rushed. 
And  I've  never  been  "  done-tired  "  and  I've  never 

once  been  "  pushed." 
No,  I've  never  once  been  "  pushed." 

Then  a  soldier  s  life  is  the  life  for  me^ 

And  the  foe  shall  7ie'er  alarm  me^ 
And  soon  I  shall  be  Corporal 

Whafs  called  "  Sauce- Jack  "  in  the  Army. 


GLEANINGS  FROM  GREAT  MINDS 

BY    H.    A.    GWYNNE 

"  The  horse  is  the  natural  enemy  of  Man :  the 
horse  is  the  only  animal  that  will  dash  himself  over 
444 


Dr.  A.  Conan   Doyle. 


A  Notable  Number 

a  precipice  to  avoid  the  shadow  of  his  own  feed- 
bag." — Kipling. 

"  All  civilians  must  remain  in  their  houses  after 
eight  o'clock  at  night." — Hints  on  Housekeeping  (by 
Lord  Roberts). 

"  Your  Mounted  Infantry — it  is  as  much  as  they 
can  do  to  keep  their  hats  on."— Albrecht,  captured 
Boer  Artillerist. 

"  I  call  the  Cavalry  the  Oh,  Lor !  regiments. 
They  ride  up  to  a  kopje  and  stare  about  till  they 
are  fired  at,  when  they  say,  '  Oh,  Lor '  and  gallop 
o&."—Albrecht. 

"  I'd  rather  be  a  coward  all  my  life  than  a  corpse 
half  a  minute." — Solomon  (junior). 


OUR  PORTRAIT  GALLERY 
No.  3 

DR.    A.    CONAN    DOYLE 

The  accompanying  wood-cut  is  a  portrait  of  the 
well-known  author,  Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle.  The  au- 
thor of  "  Sherlock  Holmes,"  who  is  so  generously 
giving  his  time  and  whole-hearted  attention  to  the 
sick  and  wounded,  will,  by  the  use  of  the  "  Holmes- 
ian  method,"  be  able  to  tell,  without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  at  what  period  of  his  eventful  life  the 
photograph  was  taken,  of  which  the  accompanying 
block  is  a  representation. 


445 


War's  Brighter  Side 

ANOTHER  LETTER  HOME 

BY    CAPTAIN   CECIL   LOWTHER 

My  dear  Father, — Since  I  last  wrote  to  you  we 
have  been  having  a  quiet  time  down  South  "  pacify- 
ing the  country."  This  consists  in  collecting  arms — 
which  we  keep — and  inviting  the  burghers  to  take 
oaths — which  they  don't  keep — at  least  some  of 
them  don't.  Every  one  seemed  pleased  to  see  us 
and  very  ready  to  tell  all  about  their  neighbours' 
misdoings.  If  one  believes  only  half  of  what  one 
was  told,  the  smiling  little  village  where  we  were 
quartered  must  be  only  one  station  this  side  of  a 
very  warm  place. 

A  spice  of  danger  is  added  to  police  work  if  there 
are  other  detachments  in  the  neighbourhood.  It  is 
this  wise.  Two  of  our  captains  who  were  out  after 
springbok  one  day  were  suddenly  glued  to  the 
ground  by  the  well-known  whistle  of  bullets  over 
their  heads.  Leaving  their  respective  hills  after 
dark,  they  returned  and,  with  quivering  lips,  re- 
counted to  us  the  dangers  through  which  they  had 
passed.  An  eviction  party  was  organised  and  a 
thorough  search  made  for  hidden  rifles  on  the  farm 
where  the  incident  had  occurred. 

Nor  unnaturally,  none  were  found,  as  we  heard 
on  our  return  that  Stoke  had  been  out  with  six  Non- 
commissioned Officers  and  had  walked  the  country 
in  line  shooting  at  everything  that  moved. 

You  remember  Stoke,  don't  you  ?  He  was  the 
fellow  who  was  not  going  to  bring  a  knife  and  fork 

446 


A  Notable  Number 

out  with  him  as  everybody  on  service  would  of 
course  eat  with  their  fingers. 

Do  you  remember  that  rather  pretty  song  that 
'MacRavish  in  the  A.S.C.  used  to  sing?  "  Lay  down 
thy  lute,  my  dearest."  The  Provost-Marshal  has 
now  adopted  it  for  his  own,  and  I  have  had  to  give 
up  all  the  loot  I  had  collected  in  the  last  three 
months.  It  is  very  disappointing,  but  I  suppose 
he  will  give  it  back  when  his  staff  have  taken  what 
they  want. 

We  have  been  having  a  bad  time  the  last  few 
days,  as  there  are  detachments  of  troops  constantly 
passing  to  the  front,  and  unless  one  lies  quite  quiet 
they  shoot  at  one.  Their  scouts,  too,  bang  through 
the  middle  of  the  kitchens  and  camp  "  looking  for 
the  enemy,"  which  is  rather  annoying  for  us,  but  it 
does  not  do  to  interfere. 

All  the  rifles  are  supposed  to  have  been  given  up 
in  the  neighbourhood,  so  I  was  hurt  in  two  senses — 
when  I  sat  down  on  a  very  hard  sofa  in  a  farm  close 
by  and  found  that  the  cushion  was  stuffed  with  two 
Mausers  and  a  lot  of  ammunition.  The  farmer  pro- 
fessed to  be  as  surprised  as  I  was,  but  I  don't  see 
why  he  should  have  objected  to  my  taking  them 
away.  He  said  they  must  have  been  left  there  acci- 
dentally by  Potgieter  or  Pienaar.  As  you  cannot 
throw  a  stone  without  hitting  some  one  of  those 
two  names  his  statement  was  rather  indefinite,  be- 
sides being  untruthful.  It  is  awfully  good  of  you 
sending  me  out  all  those  woollen  comforters  and 
meat  tabloids,  but  next  time  you  are  sending  I  wish 

30  447 


War's  Brighter  Side 

you  could  send  me  enough  stuff  to  put  a  new  seat 
and  knees  to  my  breeches  as  they  are  both  deficient 
at  present  and  even  on  active  service  they  scarcely 
come  under  the  head  of  "  luxuries." — Your  affec- 
tionate son,  "  Bertie." 


RATION  SCALE 

Get  all  you  can  but  don't  take  less 

'  It  is  all  right  to  claim  as  much  as  you  think  you 
can  get  and  to  get  all  you  really  can,  but  in  case  of 
argument  it  may  be  just  as  well  to  have  this  little 
list  stuck  inside  your  helmet.  You  may  know  some 
way  of  getting  more  than'  this — striking  the  A.S.C. 
when  it  is  badly  rushed,  or  very  sleepy — but  if  you 
reach  the  issue  depot  when  it  is  too  wide-awake  for 
you,  here  is  the  list,  just  to  make  sure  you'll  not  take 
less  than  regulations  give  you. 

One  man,  one  day  : — Biscuits,  i  lb. ;  fresh  bread, 
i^  lb.;  preserved  meat,  i  lb.;  fresh  meat,  ij  lb.; 
coffee,  f  oz.,  or  tea  ^  oz.,  or  J  oz.  of  each ;  pepper, 
^  oz. ;  salt,  J  oz. ;  sugar,  3  ozs.  (including  sugar 
for  lime-juice) ;  compressed  vegetables,  i  oz. ;  fresh 
vegetables,  8  oz.  (when  available) ;  rice,  2  oz.  (in 
lieu  of  vegetables) ;  cheese,  2  oz.  (in  lieu  of  4  oz.  of 
meat) ;  jam  i  lb.  (three  times  a  week) ;  rum,  -^  of 
gallon — when  ordered ;  lime-juice,  -^^  of  a  gallon, 
if  certified  to  be  necessary  by  the  medical  officer; 
candles,  i  per  officer ;  office  authorised  canteen. 

Meal  or  flour  for  natives  i  lb.  a  day  which  may 
448 


A  Notable  Number 

be  increased  to  i^  lb.  when  supplies  are  plentiful; 
natives  receive  the  same  ration  as  soldiers  with  the 
exception  of  vegetables.  Meal  or  flour  is  usually 
substituted  for  bread. 

Indians  enjoy  a  special  scale  of  rations. 

Forage : — English  horses  :  oats,  9  lbs. ;  oathay, 
7  lbs. ;  bran,  3  lbs. ;  chaff,  2  lbs. 

Colonial  horses :  Mealies,  8  lbs. ;  oathay,  4  lbs. ; 
bran,  2  lbs. ;  chafif,  2  lbs. 

Mules  :  Mealies,  5  lbs. ;  bran  or  chafif,  2  lbs. 

To  officers. — If  you  countersign  a  claim  for  any 
more  than  this  you  had  better  be  sure  it  is  in  the 
hands  of  a  very  "  trustworthy  "  man,  who  can  bluff 
it  through,  and  get  the  A.S.C.  men  mixed  up.  If  he 
doesn't  know  his  way  about  they'll  catch  him  up 
and  send  him  back. 


HUNGRY  BLOEMFONTEIN 

BY   J.    W.   JENKINS 

[A  young  Philadelphian  who  very  cleverly  united  in 
his  own  work  and  person  the  entire  reportorial  staff 
of  the  paper.] 

This  town  is  hungry.  The  shops  are  practically 
bare.  Nothing  worth  speaking  of  comes  to  market. 
The  matter  has  passed  from  the  stage  at  which  it 
might  be  regarded  as  a  joke.  Bloemfontein  really 
hungers  for  necessary  articles  of  diet,  and  it  has  one 
week  in  which  to  raise  an  extra  appetite  before  the 
first  train  of  foodstuffs  comes  to  its  stores.  The 
hopes  of  two  trucks  a  day  for  Bloemfontein  mer- 

449 


War's  Brighter  Side 

chants,  held  out  two  weeks  ago  by  the  Imperial 
Military  Railway  Officials,  have  proved  vain.  The 
two  trucks  never  came.  The  line  has  been  taken 
up  wholly  by  the  transportation  of  troops  and  army 
supplies.  Next  Thursday,  however,  unless  the  pres- 
ent plan  is  changed,  a  train  of  20  trucks  will  leave 
Port  Elizabeth  with  goods  for  merchants  here. 
There  will  be  one  train  a  week  thereafter.  All  day 
on  Wednesday  and  Thursday  the  business  men 
flocked  to  the  Director  of  Supplies,  who  will  assign 
to  each  his  proportion  of  tonnage. 

For  a  week  the  best  families  of  Bloemfontein 
have  been  without  butter  or  sugar.  The  hospitals 
have  commandeered  nearly  all  the  fresh  milk. 
There  is  not  a  can  of  condensed  milk  to  be  bought 
in  town,  nor  a  can  of  jam,  nor  of  cocoa,  nor  a  pound 
of  coffee.  The  last  candles  sold  in  town  were  sent 
in  from  a  country  store.  They  disappeared  in  a  day. 
The  town  depends  for  its  potatoes  on  the  few  which 
come  into  town  every  morning. 

The  daily  supply  of  fresh  vegetables  is  so  small 
as  to  be  hardly  worth  mentioning. 

Toilet  soaps  and  English  laundry  soap  disap- 
peared long  ago.  You  cannot  buy  a  razor  or  a 
shaving-brush  or  a  tooth-brush. 

More  than  one  druggist  lacks  material  for  put- 
ting up  prescriptions :  glycerine,  cascara,  bromide  of 
potassium,  boracicacid,  carbolic  disinfectants,  gin- 
ger, zinc  oxide,  blue  ointment,  acetate  of  lead,  and 
iodoform.  Absence  of  some  of  these  from  the  pre- 
scription shelves  might  result  seriously. 

450 


A  Notable  Number 

Eno's  Salts  and  chlorodyne  cannot  be  bought 
in  town.  Beecham's  Pills  were  "  all  out "  four 
months  ago. 

The  flour  mills  have  been  closed  for  several  days 
for  want  of  water.  They  will  resume,  feeding  their 
boilers  with  well  water,  but  the  end  of  the  wheat 
supply  is  in  sight.  There  is  still  mealie  meal,  but 
bakers  declare  that  it  won't  make  bread. 

Cigars  that  are  worth  smoking  and  whisky  worth 
drinking  haven't  been  seen  for  a  week.  Hospitals 
take  all  the  soda-water  that  the  factory  can  make. 

Shoemakers  have  not  even  veldschoens  in  ordi- 
nary sizes.  They  have  had  no  leather  for  two  weeks, 
so  shoe  repairing  is  out  of  the  question. 

Winter  is  coming  on,  the  mornings  are  already 
growing  chilly,  but  clothiers  have  no  hose  and  no 
heavy  underwear  of  white  man's  quality.  All  hats 
suitable  for  army  wear  were  sold  long  ago. 

Merchants  declare  that  if  they  had  not  been 
promised  two  trucks  a  day  by  rail  they  would  have 
brought  supplies  from  Kimberley  by  ox-waggon. 
It  would  have  taken  six  days,  but  would  have  been 
worth  while. 


451 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

"  Our  Friend  "  no  Longer 

We  retire  from  the  paper,  leaving  it  in  able  and 
patriotic  hands 

The  unique  and  delightful  episode  had  ended. 
On  April  i6th,  just  one  month  after  we  estab- 
lished this  new  departure  in  war,  we  turned  The 
Friend  over  to  the  proprietor  of  the  Johannes- 
burg Star,  upon  an  arrangement  quickly  and 
generously  made  by  Lord  Stanley.  In  a  few  days 
I  was  ordered  home  by  the  surgeons  who  saw  the 
state  my  battered  body  was  in,  Mr.  Landon  pre- 
ceded me  by  a  few  days,  invalided  also;  Mr. 
Buxton  remained  upon  paper  under  its  new  pro- 
prietors, who  were  old  work-mates  with  him,  and 
Mr.  Gwynne  remained,  and  yet  remains  as  a  war 
correspondent  (January,  1901),  sturdily  doing 
his  always  excellent  work  in  the  field.  In  that 
work  I  do  not  think  he  has  a  superior  among 
living  English-speaking  correspondents,  and  I 
know  that  many  military  and  journalistic  experts 
452 


(C 


Our  Friend  "  no  Longer 


agree  with  me.  The  pity  is  that  the  nature  of 
his  work  for  Reuter's  has  kept  his  genius  as  a 
writer  practically  hidden  from  the  public. 

Mr.  Shelley  took  up  the  photographer's  side 
of  the  entertaining  duel  between  the  men  of  his 
calling  and  the  actual  and  proper  artists;  Mr. 
Melton  Prior  indignantly  lamented  an  indignity 
or  an  attempted  theft  of  which  he  had  been  the 
victim.  We  reported  a  great  football  match  be- 
tween the  officers  of  the  Gordons  and  those  of 
the  First  Contingent  of  the  Royal  Canadian 
Regiment;  and,  finally,  we  perpetrated  the 
fourth  hoax,  in  what  we  called  "  Our  Portrait 
Gallery."  The  ''  portrait "  was  in  each  case 
from  the  same  advertisement  block  which  Mr. 
Gwynne  and  I  had  found  on  the  floor  of  the  Ex- 
press composing-room,  which  he  had  thought 
nearly  enough  like  Mr.  Burdett-Coutts  to  bear 
production  as  a  likeness,  and  which  we  presently 
resolved  to  publish  every  day  as  a  picture  of  a 
different  man  each  time. 

The  notice  of  a  concert  in  aid  of  the  Widows' 
and  Orphans'  Fund  refers  to  a  notable  enterprise 
engineered  by  the  universally  distinguished  Mr. 
Bennet  Burleigh  of  the  Daily  Telegraph,  who  ar- 
ranged and  carried  it  out  with  such  skill  that  the 
entertainment  proved  the  greatest  social  event, 
if  we  may  so  term  it,  of  the  army's  sojourn  in  the 
capital.  Every  one  of  note  who  was  able  to  be 
453 


War's  Brighter  Side 

there  attended  it,  and  the  receipts  both  at  the 
doors  and  in  the  competition  to  purchase  the 
works  of  Messrs.  Prior  and  WoUen,  the  war 
artists,  were  very  considerable. 


Price  : 
One  Penny. 


THE    FRIEND. 


Price  : 
One  Penny, 


{Edited  by  the  War  Correspondents  with  Lord  Roberts*  Forces.) 
BLOEMFONTEIN,    EASTER   MONDAY,    APRIL    l6,    I900. 

"  OUR  FRIEND  "  NO  LONGER 

BY   JULIAN    RALPH 

At  some  time  all  friends  must  part,  and  the  time 
and  parting  have  come  to  The  Friend,  its  friends 
of  the  public  and  those  war  correspondents  who 
have  been  conducting  this  journal  just  one  month 
to-day. 

To-morrow  this  paper  will  be  turned  over  from 
the  charge  of  those  who  were  only  writers  to  the 
hands  of  men  who  are  practised  and  able  in  the 
management  of  all  departments  of  a  daily  journal. 

In  bidding  farewell  to  our  trust,  we  can  boast  of 
nothing  unless  it  be  that  we  have  entertained  the 
troops  and  the  town,  and  made  no  enemies  of  whom 
we  know.  The  rest  of  what  we  have  done  has  only 
been  trying — though  we  have  tried  hard. 

We  have  said  before  in  this  column  that  it  has 
been  an  unique  experiment — to  make  one  loyal 
454 


Julian  Ralph. 


Lieut. -General  Pole-Carew,  C.  B. 


"  Our  Friend  "  no  Longer 

newspaper  out  of  two  that  were  none  too  English, 
to  make  it  with  talent  unused  to  the  work,  to  make 
it,  often,  without  news  and  to  conduct  it  so  as  to 
produce  something  palatable  to  both  the  conquerors 
and  the  conquered. 

We  take  this  occasion  to  thank  the  Field  Mar- 
shal, Lord  Roberts,  for  the  trust  he  reposed  in  us, 
and  to  express  the  hope  that  we  did  not  disap- 
point him. 

We  also  wish  to  thank  those  who  have  assisted 
us,  both  among  our  fellow  correspondents  and  the 
talented  men  of  the  army.  Poets  we  find  the  latter 
to  be,  for  the  most  part.  We  hope  all  these  will 
continue  to  give  the  helpful  right  hand  to  the  enter- 
prise under  its  new  managers. 

And  so  we  say  "  adieu  "  to  The  Friend,  and 
good  luck  to  its  new  conductors. 


OUR  PORTRAIT  GALLERY 
No.  4 

LIEUT.-GENERAL   POLE-CAREW,    C.B. 

We  feel  that  we  owe  an  apology  to  our  readers 
for  presenting  the  portrait  of  one  of  our  first  fighting 
generals  in  civilian  costume,  but  our  artist  left  his 
colours  at  home  and  refused  to  paint  at  all  unless 
with  plain  black.  The  artist  in  question  is  Captain 
Cecil  Lowther,  of  the  Scots  Guards,  and  this  is 
his  first  effort  in  art.    For  General  Pole-Carew,  the 

455 


War's  Brighter  Side 

subject  of  this  masterpiece,  what  is  there  to  say 
except  that  his  promotion  has  gratified  the  entire 
army  and  evoked  the  heartiest  congratulations  from 
The  Friend? 


THE  WAR  ARTIST  OF  TO-DAY 

BY    H.    C.    SHELLEY 

Editors,  The  Friend, — Sirs, — Can  you  inform 
me  whether  there  has  been  a  sudden  exodus  from 
Bloemfontein  of  war  correspondents  armed  with 
cameras?  There  ought  to  have  been,  and  yet  I 
have  inquired  in  vain  whether  such  an  event  has 
taken  place.  For,  look  you,  the  judgment  has  gone 
forth  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Wollen  that  the  **  war 
artist  " — meaning  the  man  with  a  pencil  as  opposed 
to  the  men  with  a  camera — "  will  come  out  on  top." 
Truly,  this  is  most  disheartening.  No  one  likes  to 
be  thrust  to  a  bottom  position,  and  if  that  is  to  be 
the  fate  of  the  man  with  a  camera,  why  should  he 
any  longer  endure  the  hardships  of  campaigning  and 
the  sorrows  of  separation  from  the  comforts  and 
companionships  of  home  ? 

But  the  war  correspondent  with  a  camera  has 
not  gone  home.  He  has  no  intention  of  doing  so. 
He  is  unrepentant  enough  to  believe  that  he,  and 
not  the  man  with  a  pencil,  is  going  to  "  come  out 
on  top." 

Let  us  have  the  point  at  issue  clearly  defined. 
War  correspondents  are  with  the  army  to  report 

456 


"  Our  Friend  "  no  Longer 

the  war — some  by  word  pictures,  others  by  camera 
or  pencil  pictures.  Sight-seeing  is  a  passion  with 
humanity.  Every  inhabitant  of  the  British  Isles 
would  like  to  have  a  personal  vision  of  the  conflict 
in  South  Africa,  but — save  for  two  or  three  irre- 
sponsible persons  whose  presence  at  the  front  no 
one  can  understand — those  inhabitants  are  com- 
pelled to  rely  upon  the  eyes  of  others.  Now,  leav- 
ing aside  the  correspondents  who  devote  them- 
selves to  word  pictures  solely,  the  question  to  be 
decided  is — does  the  man  with  the  camera  surpass 
the  man  with  the  pencil  in  depicting  the  actuality 
of  warfare  ? 

An  astounding  claim  is  made  on  behalf  of  the 
man  with  the  pencil.  He  can,  we  are  told  by  Mr. 
WoUen,  show  the  public  **  an  accurate  bird's-eye 
view  of  what  a  battle  is  like."  And  he  does  it  by  "  a 
few  lines  to  indicate  the  background  and  character- 
istics of  it."  The  same  authority  assures  us  that 
**  the  brain  of  the  camera  cannot  take  in  all  that  is 
going  on.  The  man  with  the  pencil  does  so."  Such 
is  the  case  for  the  man  with  the  pencil.  Now  for 
the  test  of  cross-examination. 

Modder  River  and  Magersfontein  may  be  cited 
as  two  representative  battles  of  the  war,  and  so  may 
be  honestly  used  as  touchstones  to  try  the  claim 
Mr.  Wollen  makes  on  behalf  of  the  man  with  a 
pencil.  In  each  case  there  was  a  battle-line  of  some 
five  or  six  miles,  in  each  case  the  enemy  was  in- 
visible, in  each  case  it  was  physically  impossible 
for  any  one  man  to  see  more  than  a  small  portion  of 

457 


War's  Brighter  Side 

the  battle.  A  spectator  on  the  right  flank  at  Modder 
River  could  have  no  personal  knowledge  of  inci- 
dents which  were  happening  in  the  centre  of  the 
bridge,  or  down  the  river  on  the  left  flank.  Even 
of  his  own  particular  section  on  the  right  flank  that 
spectator  could  not  attain  to  a  perfect  knowledge. 
But  the  man  with  a  pencil  is  untrammelled  by  such 
minor  matters  as  time  and  space ;  he  '*  takes  in  all 
that  is  going  on."  Or,  if  he  does  not  take  it  all  in, 
he  puts  it  in  his  sketch.  The  result  is  no  more  ''  an 
accurate  bird's-eye  view  of  what  a  battle  is  like  " 
than  a  photograph  of  Oom  Paul  is  like  a  photo- 
graph of  Mr.  Chamberlain.  In  short,  the  facility 
with  which  the  pencil-man  can  jot  down  what  he 
did  not  see  is  his  ruin. 

It  will  be  obvious  that  the  man  with  the  pencil, 
not  being  ubiquitous,  cannot  "  take  in  "  all  that  hap- 
pens on  a  battlefield ;  he  sees  just  as  much  as,  and  no 
more  than,  the  man  with  the  camera ;  for  the  rest — 
which  forms  so  large  a  proportion  of  his  sketch — ^he 
has  to  rely  upon  the  testimony  of  others.  Now, 
when  the  public  have  in  their  hands  a  result  attained 
by  this  method,  what  is  its  value  as  an  "  accurate 
bird's-eye  view  of  what  a  battle  is  like  ?  "  Absolutely 
nil.  People  at  home  want  to  see  a  battle  as  they 
would  have  seen  it  if  they  had  been  present,  and  no 
sane  man  will  contest  the  assertion  that  the  best 
medium  for  giving  them  that  vision  is  the  camera 
rather  than  the  pencil.  Try  as  he  may  after  the 
actual,  the  man  with  the  pencil  thrusts  his  person- 
ality between  the  event  he  sees  and  the  people  at 

458 


"  Our  Friend  "  no  Longer 

home  for  whom  he  wishes  to  reproduce  it,  and  con- 
squently  his  sketch  becomes  a  miserable  failure  when 
considered  as  an  "  accurate  bird's-eye  view  of  what 
a  battle  is  like." 

On  the  other  hand,  what  does  the  man  with  the 
camera  do?  He  and  his  lens  see  at  least  so  much 
of  a  given  battle  as  any  man  with  a  pencil,  and  what 
they  see  they  see  with  unfailing  accuracy.  Take  that 
battery  in  action  which  Mr.  Wollen  chooses  to  cite 
as  a  subject  wherein  the  powerlessness  of  the  camera 
is  supposed  to  be  illustrated.  The  camera  man  does 
not  fear  the  test.  He  can  show  the  guns  coming 
into  action,  record  their  unhmbering,  depict  the 
preparation  for  firing,  and  time  a  photograph  at 
the  actual  moment  of  firing.  It  is  true  that  his 
picture  will  not  show  quite  such  a  volume  of  smoke 
as  the  sketch  of  the  man  with  the  pencil.  But  why  ? 
Because  the  smoke  is  not  there.  The  man  with  the 
pencil  puts  it  in  because  other  men  with  pencils 
have  been  putting  it  in  for  generations.  Perhaps, 
too,  the  public  would  not  mistake  the  sketch  for  a 
battle-scene  if  the  smoke  were  absent.  Anyhow, 
what  becomes  of  the  boast  of  accuracy  f  More- 
over, the  man  with  a  camera  will  not  present  his 
public  with  a  twelve-pounder  firing  from  the  car- 
riage of  a  howitzer. 

There  is  something  more  to  be  said  for  the  man 
with  a  camera.  Now-a-days  he  is  in  the  habit  of 
screwing  a  telephoto  lens  to  the  front  of  the  camera, 
and  with  that  lens  he  can  immensely  outdistance  the 
vision  of  even  that  all-seeing  man  with  the  pencil. 

459 


War's  Brighter  Side 

Objects  a  couple  of  miles  off  are  brought  near,  and 
groups  of  men  can  be  photographed  at  such  dis- 
tances as  prevent  them  assuming  any  posing  atti- 
tudes. In  this  way  actuality  takes  on  the  added 
charm  of  natural  grouping,  and  I  shall  be  greatly 
surprised  if  some  of  the  telephoto  pictures  of  this 
war  do  not  take  rank  as  the  most  artistic  as  well 
as  realistic  records  of  its  incidents. 

After  all,  the  man  with  a  camera  may  safely  leave 
his  case  in  the  hands  of  others.  Take  a  negative  and 
a  positive  witness  on  the  question  in  the  abstract. 
Mr.  Julian  Ralph  writes  that  "  the  pictures  of  our 
battles  which  are  coming  back  to  us  in  the  London 
weeklies  are  not  at  all  like  the  real  things,"  and  then 
he  adds :  ''  I  saw  the  other  day  a  picture  in  one  of 
the  leading  papers  by  one  of  the  best  illustrators.  It 
showed  the  British  storming  a  Boer  position.  In 
the  middle  ground  was  a  Boer  battery,  and  the  only 
gunner  left  alive  was  standing  up  with  a  bandage 
round  his  head,  while  smoke  and  flame  and  flying 
fragments  of  shells  filled  the  air  in  his  vicinity.  In 
the  rush  of  the  instant  he  must  have  been  bandaged 
by  the  same  shot  that  struck  him,  and  as  for  smoke 
and  debris  in  the  air,  there  was  more  of  this  in  a 
corner  of  that  picture  than  I  have  seen  in  all  the 
four  battles  we  have  fought." 

Now  for  the  positive  witness.  He  is  no  less  a 
person  than  the  art  critic  of  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette, 
who  can  no  more  be  charged  with  a  predilection  for 
photography  than  Messrs.  Steyn  and  Kruger  can  be 
saddled  with  a  predilection  for  truthfulness.     This 

460 


"  Our  Friend  "  no  Longer 

critic  dwells,  as  Mr.  Scott  did  in  the  letter  which 
opened  this  discussion,  upon  the  old  and  new 
methods  of  war  illustration,  and  then  candidly  adds  : 
"  I  would  like  to  say  that  the  artists  score  off  the 
photographer,  but  they  do  not.  The  public  wants 
the  facts  as  near  as  may  be,  and  are  too  deeply 
stirred  to  be  put  off  with  melodrama." 

One  other  witness  may  be  called  to  give  Mr. 
Wollen  an  idea  of  how  the  work  of  the  man  with 
the  pencil  is  faring  at  home.  Here  is  a  recent  pri- 
vate letter  from  England,  which  makes  merry  in  the 
following  fashion  over  those  sketches  which  are  so 
inclusive  and  accurate :  "  There  is  a  picture  of  two 
gunners  standing  to  attention  after  having  ex- 
hausted their  ammunition.  The  man  nearest  the 
gun  is  looking  straight  in  front  of  him,  with  a  band- 
age round  his  head,  a  bullet-wound  in  his  face  (close 
to  the  left  ear),  two  in  the  right  side  of  his  chest, 
and  one  in  his  right  leg,  some  distance  above  the 
knee.  Within  a  yard  of  him  is  a  bursting  shell. 
But  that  man  ignores  such  trivial  things.  Still  he 
stands.  I  suppose  the  weight  of  so  much  lead  in 
him  keeps  him  up.  One  wonders  whether  he  is 
hollow  inside,  so  that  the  bullets  all  drop  down  into 
his  feet." 

No  wonder,  worthy  editorial  sirs,  you  have  not 
witnessed  an  exodus  of  men  with  cameras  from 
Bloemfontein ;  they  are  staying  to  "  come  out  on 
top."     Sincerely  yours, 

H.  C.  Shelley. 


461 


War's  Brighter  Side 

CORRESPONDENCE 
''Who  Stole  the  Cart?" 

To  the  Editors  of  The  Friend, — Sirs, — Practical 
jokes  are  out  of  date,  and  the  perpetrators  have  uni- 
versally come  to  be  regarded  as  a  mixture  of  fools 
and  knaves.  It  is  intolerable  to  attempt  a  practical 
joke  upon  a  friend,  but  to  play  one  upon  a  stranger 
is  downright  rascality.  To  accept  an  excuse  for 
such  a  thing  is  to  admit  the  pleas  of  the  man  who 
took  a  piece  of  old  rope  that  he  did  not  mean  to 
take  the  horse  that  was  at  the  other  end;  or  that 
of  other  fellows  who  sneak  property,  pick  pockets, 
or  forge  cheques,  that  these  acts  were  all  done  in  fun. 

I  have  been  much  interested  in  reading  in  The 
Friend  about  horses,  saddles,  bridles,  and  even 
riems  being  stolen  in  this  campaign,  but  I  think  I 
can  add  to  the  list  with  a  more  startling  experience 
of  my  own.  I  bought  a  waggon  from  a  well-known 
man  in  this  town  and  had  it  sent  to  a  coach  repairer 
to  be  overhauled.  It  was  a  conspicuous  vehicle,  as 
much  so  as  a  Soudan  pantechnicon  van,  with  white 
wall  sides,  upon  which  were  painted,  in  letters  that 
could  be  read  half  a  mile  away,  the  owner's  name, 
business,  and  address.  This  waggon  was  impu- 
dently taken  in  the  night-time,  dragged  to  stables 
some  distance  away,  and  there  left.  From  the  police 
I  have  learned  that  paint  had  actually  been  pur- 
chased, and  it  was  evidently  the  intention  of  the 
thieves  to  transform  my  waggon,  by  painting  out 
the  name  and  address,  and  so  daub  it  with  khaki  or 
462 


''  Our  Friend  "  no  Longer 

some  other  colour  that  it  should  become  unrecog- 
nisable. By  a  fortuitous  accident  the  waggon  was 
discovered  in  the  nick  of  time. 

The  law  here  is  such  that  an  aggrieved  party 
must  become  a  prosecutor,  which  is  an  undertaking 
a  transient  visitor  naturally  shirks. 

I  think  it  my  duty  to  call  attention  to  the  circum- 
stances and  the  inadequacy  of  the  existing  means  for 
the  prevention  of  wrong-doing  and  the  punishment 
of  the  wrong-doers. — I  am,  sirs,  yours  truly, 

Melton  Prior, 
War  Artist,  Illustrated  London  News, 


WEDNESDAY  EVENING  CONCERT 

Thanks  to  the  kindness  of  the  Military  Governor, 
Major-General  Pretyman,  the  concert  in  aid  of  the 
"  Widows'  and  Orphans'  Funds,"  London  and 
Bloemfontein,  will  be  held  next  Wednesday  even- 
ing, instead  of  during  the  afternoon.  Major-Gen- 
eral  Pretyman  has  conceded  that  upon  the  date  in 
question,  Wednesday,  i8th  inst.,  the  pass  regula- 
tion will  not  come  into  force  until  midnight.  That 
means  that  citizens  may  move  about  after  8  p.m., 
or  until  twelve  o'clock,  without  requiring  any  special 
pass  or  being  called  upon  to  produce  a  permit. 

The  committee  of  war  correspondents  declare 

that  the  entertainment  will  require  no  booming.    It 

is  to  be  a  red-letter  day  in  the  calendar  of  concerts 

given  for  charitable  purposes  in  Bloemfontein,  both 

31  463 


War's  Brighter  Side 

in  respect  to  talent  upon  the  platform  and  to  the 
celebrities  who  will  crowd  the  Town  Hall  that 
evening. 

Amongst  those  who  will  appear  will  be  Miss 
Fraser,  the  Free  State  nightingale,  who  will  sing 
original  verses  written  by  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling  for 
the  occasion,  Miss  Leviseur,  Miss  Jessie  Fraser, 
Lieut.-Colonel  Townshend,  C.B.,  Surgeon-Major 
Beevor,  Scots  Guards,  Lieut.  James  Forrest,  Captain 
Nugent,  the  celebrated  vocalist;  Captain  Wright, 
R.N.  (The  Skipper) ;  the  Lightning  Cartoonists, 
alias  The  Gemini;  Mr.  Preshaw,  Major  Jones,  R.E., 
besides,  in  the  language  of  the  entrepreneurs,  ''  a 
coruscation  and  galaxy  of  stars  of  the  first  magni- 
tude too  numerous  to  mention  in  the  brief  space 
afforded."  It  is  hoped  that  the  military  band  will 
be  present,  but,  at  any  rate,  that  the  concert  will  be 
high-class  without  being  dull  is  guaranteed  from 
the  fact  that  Messrs.  Ivan  Haarburgher  and  King 
are  in  charge  of  the  musical  arrangements. 

Tickets  may  be  had  and  seats  booked  at  Messrs. 
Borckenhagen  and  Co.  Prices  :  5s.,  reserved  seats ; 
gallery,  2s.  6d. ;  soldiers  in  uniform  to  gallery,  is. 


464 


CHAPTER    XXIX 
Adieu  to  ''  The  Friend  " 

Thus  ends  the  history  of  this  new  departure 
in  war  and  in  journalism.  Of  it  Mr.  KipUng 
wrote  afterwards,  *'  Never  again  will  there  be 
such  a  paper!  Never  again  such  a  staff!  Never 
such  fine  larks."  It  has  been  impossible,  after 
all  my  good  intentions,  to  tell  of  scores  of  the 
peculiarities  of  the  paper,  and  its  editors'  experi- 
ences. Sometimes  copies  of  The  Friend  did 
not  look  twice  alike  for  days  at  a  time,  as  we 
strove  to  make  it  more  and  more  workmanlike, 
and  more  and  more  original  and  attractive. 

We  began,  as  I  have  said,  with  advertisement 
"  ear-tabs  "  on  either  side  of  the  heading.  Then 
we  put  the  Royal  coat-of-arms  in  their  places. 
Next  we  put  the  arms  in  the  middle  of  the  title 
space  and  published  mottoes  and  notices  in  new 
"  ear-tabs."  At  first  we  only  put  double  leads 
between  the  lines  of  the  leading  article  each  day, 
but  presently  we  dignified  the  cable  news  and 
Mr.  Kipling's  contributions  in  that  way.  We 
once  put  some  editorial  notices  in  rhyme,  and 
465 


War's  Brighter  Side 

set  them  up  in  black  job  type — when  we 
changed  the  price  of  the  paper  to  one  penny  for 
everybody. 

We  knew  that  our  money  returns  were  in 
confusion,  but  because  we  had  taken  over  a  busi- 
ness manager  from  one  of  the  two  comman- 
deered newspapers,  whom  we  could  hardly  ex- 
pect to  be  in  sympathy  with  us,  and  because  we 
had  established  two  prices  for  the  paper  and  were 
being  victimised  by  some  of  our  customers,  we 
never  knew  how  the  finance  of  our  venture  was 
likely  to  come  out. 

A  practised  man  of  affairs,  from  the  City  Im- 
perial Volunteer  Mounted  Force,  Mr.  Siegfried 
Blumfeld,  most  kindly  took  the  trouble  to  look 
into  our  accounts,  and  we  learned  from  his  re- 
port that  we  were  making  money,  but  not  nearly 
enough  to  satisfy  our  pride  and  hopes.  How- 
ever, as  events  proved,  we  made  a  splendid  profit, 
and  were  able  to  make  Tommy  Atkins's  news- 
paper pay  a  handsome  sum  toward  "  Tommy's  " 
relief.  All  that  any  of  us  have  even  thus  far 
learned  of  the  profits  is  to  be  found  in  the  follow- 
ing formal  letter  I  received  from  Lord  Stanley: — 

Army  Headquarters,  Pretoria, 

3rd  October,  1900. 
Sir, — I  have  been  asked  by  Major-General 
Pretyman,  C.B.,  to  forward  you  a  copy  of  a  letter 
466 


Adieu  to  "The  Friend" 

which  he  has  received  bearing  reference  to  the 
use  made  of  the  profits  of  The  Friend  news- 
paper. 

General  Pretyman  adds  that  there  will  be 
a  further  cheque,  which  he  proposes  to  send  to 
some   other   charity,    but    which   he    does   not 

specify  to  me. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Stanley. 
Julian  Ralph,  Esq. 

(Enclosure.) 
Stellenberg,  Kenilworth,  Cape  Colony, 

20/8/00. 
Sir, — As  Honorary  Treasurer  of  the  Sol- 
diers' and  Sailors'  Families  Association,  I  en- 
close a  formal  acknowledgment  of  the  cheques 
for  £136  17s.  3d.  so  kindly  sent  to  our  Associa- 
tion by  the  War  Correspondents.  Should  you 
have  an  opportunity  of  doing  so,  I  should  be 
very  glad  if  you  would  convey  to  Lord  Stanley 
and  the  other  gentlemen  our  great  appreciation 
of  this  kind  and  thoughtful  gift. 

Yours  very  truly, 
(Signed)  W.  L.  Sclater. 

Had  we  been  able  to  ^^inspan"  a  proof-reader 

with  a  Lee-Metford  rifle  and  a  determination  to 

use  it  to  enforce  his  "  corrections,"  we  should  not 

have  announced  the  Queen's  reception  in  Dublin 

467 


War's  Brighter  Side 

as  a  great  tribute  by  London,  neither  should  we 
have  made  Mr.  Kipling  speak  of  a  "  shixlvl " 
when  he  wrote  a  *'  shovelful."  Four  of  us  had 
to  fill  a  great  chasm  nine  columns  long  and  wide 
every  day,  and  to  do  proof-reading  as  well.  We 
produced  the  nine  columns  incidentally  as  a 
thing  done  with  our  left  hands,  the  while  that 
our  minds  and  souls  and  master-hands  were  de- 
voted to  correcting  proofs.  Bravely  as  we  bat- 
tled with  them,  they  kept  coming  like  a  swift 
tide,  until,  in  a  reckless  way  of  putting  it,  they 
were  heaped  on  our  table  as  high  as  the  first  but- 
ton on  each  of  our  coats.  When  it  came  to  time 
to  go  to  press  we  regularly  and  daily  observed 
that  we  had  not  only  overlooked  errors  enough 
to  wreck  our  reputations,  but  that  the  composi- 
tors had  failed  to  correct  most  of  those  which 
we  had  marked.  Gravely,  in  a  body,  we  used  to 
march  to  the  printing-ofifice  and  threaten  to  send 
the  entire  corps  of  workmen  as  prisoners  to 
Simonstown,  charged  with  being  hostile  to  the 
blessings  of  enlightened  government.  Then  we 
would  go  to  lunch  and  the  paper  would  come 
out — so  full  of  mistakes  that  there  was  clearly 
nothing  to  do  but  to  allow  the  humour  of  the 
situation  to  have  its  way,  and  to  laugh  until  we 
almost  cried  at  the  extravagance  of  the  offences 
we  were  committing  against  journalism  and 
"  the  art  preservative  of  arts." 
468 


Adieu  to  "The  Friend" 

Despite  its  whimsicalities,  The  Friend  was 
a  dignified  newspaper,  and  very  nearly  a  com- 
plete one.  The  largest  daily  circulation  of  any 
Bloemfontein  newspaper  had  been  400  copies, 
but  we  regularly  sold  from  5,000  to  5,500  copies. 
We  published  Renter's  telegrams  from  all  over 
the  world  (semi-occasionally  when  military  mes- 
sages did  not  block  the  wires),  and  the  Capetown 
Argus's  tidings  of  what  went  on  in  South 
Africa. 

As  I  have  written  elsewhere,  *'  its  unique 
origin  and  purpose,  and  its  eccentricities,  com- 
bined to  make  it  the  basis  of  a  collecting  mania." 
Copies  with  a  mistake  in  a  date  Une,  corrected 
after  one  hundred  papers  had  been  struck  off, 
brought  five  shillings  on  the  date  of  issue,  and 
ten  shilHngs  two  days  later,  and  the  price  had 
risen  to  a  guinea  by  the  time  the  newspaper  was 
turned  over  to  the  managers  of  the  Johannesburg 
Star  and  Capetown  Argus.  This  took  place 
when  it  was  apparent  to  all  of  us  that  two  or 
three  of  us  were  not  in  the  physical  trim  to  serve 
The  Friend  and  our  distant  employers  without 
causing  one  or  the  other  to  suffer  great  neglect. 

The  competition  for  complete  sets  of  the 
newspaper  ran  the  price  up  to  £25,  and  this  strife 
ran  neck  and  neck  with  the  rivalry  to  obtain 
sets  of  Freed  State  postage  stamps  made  British 
by  the  letters  V.RJ.  on  an  overline  of  printing. 
469 


War's  Brighter  Side 

One  of  these  stamps  was  quoted  at  £io  while  the 
army  lingered  in  Bloemfontein,  but  I  have  my 
own  reason  for  thinking  that  The  Friend  will 
receive  a  higher  valuation  than  any  ^'  pink  six- 
penny stamp  "  or  any  set  of  stamps,  for  it  fell  to 
the  lot  of  that  journal  to  emphasise  the  present 
power  and  usefulness  of  the  press  as  no  other 
journal  has  ever  done. 

A  single  copy  of  this  newspaper  has  since 
fetched  £25  at  a  London  charity  bazaar. 

Since  the  return  to  England  of  three  of  the 
editors  we  have  decided  to  perpetuate  the  little 
organisation  in  a  fraternal  "  Order  of  Friend- 
lies,"  and  Rudyard  Kipling  has  designed  a  badge 
which  Messrs.  Tiffany  &  Co.,  jewellers,  of  Re- 
gent Street,  have  most  ably  and  artistically  exe- 
cuted in  gold  and  enamel.  It  is  of  the  size  of  a 
two  guinea  coin.  On  its  obverse  side  are  the 
colours  of  the  old  Free  State  and  Transvaal, 
upon  which  is  imposed  the  red  cross  of  Saint 
George.  In  the  ends  of  the  cross  are  the  initials 
of  the  four  editors  in  Greek  capitals.  Lord  Rob- 
erts's badge  has  his  initials  in  the  centre  of  the 
cross  in  green  under  a  golden  coronet,  and  where 
the  ring  is,  on  top  of  our  badges,  his  has  a  green 
enamel  shamrock  leaf.  On  the  reverse  side  are 
four  pens  crossed  and  surrounded  by  a  motto, 
"  In  the  Midst  of  War  the  Printing  Press,"  here 
470 


Adieu  to  "The  Friend" 

couched  in  monkish  Latin.  Lord  Roberts's 
badge  has  a  drawn  sword  of  gold  on  top  of  the 
crossed  pens.  Only  seven  men  in  all  the  world 
belong  to  this  order:  Lord  Roberts,  Lord  Stan- 
ley, Messrs.  Gwynne,  Kipling,  Landon,  Buxton, 
and  myself.  All  others  are  eligible,  however, 
who  have  dedicated  themselves  to  "  telling  the 
truth  at  all  costs  and  all  hazards,"  so  that  the 
mind  fails  to  grasp  the  future  possibilities  of  its 
membership. 


THE    END 


471 


A   TIMELY  BOOK. 


China. 

Travels  and  Investigations  in  the  **  Middle  Kingdom  " — A  Study 
of  its  Civilization  and  Possibilities,  Together  with  an  Account 
of  the  Boxer  War,  the  Relief  of  the  Legations,  and  the  Re-estab- 
lishment of  Peace.  By  James  Harrison  Wilson,  A.  M.,  LL.  D., 
late  Major-General  United  States  Volunteers,  and  Brevet  Major- 
General  United  States  Army.  Third  edition,  revised  throughout, 
enlarged,  and  reset.      i  zmo.      Cloth,  $1.75. 

General  Wilson's  second  visit  to  China  and  his  recent  active 
service  in  that  country  have  afforded  exceptional  chances  for  a 
knowledge  of  present  conditions  and  the  possibilities  of  the  future. 
In  the  light  of  the  information  thus  obtained  at  first  hand  in  the 
country  itself.  General  Wilson  is  enabled  to  write  with  a  pecuHar 
authoritativeness  in  this  edition,  which  brings  his  study  of  China 
down  to  the  present  day.  In  addition  to  the  new  chapters  which 
have  been  added  explaining  the  origin  and  development  of  the 
Boxer  insurrection,  the  relief  of  the  legations,  and  the  outlook  for 
the  future,  the  author  has  revised  his  book  throughout,  and  has 
added  much  valuable  matter  in  the  course  of  his  narrative.  This 
book,  which  is  therefore  in  many  respects  new,  puts  the  reader 
in  possession  of  a  broad  and  comprehensive  knowledge  of  Chinese 
affairs,  and  this  includes  the  latest  phases  of  the  subject.  The 
practical  and  discriminating  character  of  the  author's  study  of 
China  will  be  appreciated  more  than  ever  at  this  time  when  prac- 
tical questions  relating  to  Chinese  administration,  commerce^  and 
other  matters  of  the  first  importance,  are  engaging  so  much 
attention.  This  new  edition  is  indispensable  for  any  one  who 
wishes  a  compact,  authoritative  presentation  of  the  China  of 
to-day. 

D.     APPLETON    AND    COMPANY,     NEW    YORK. 


^THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  THE  BOERS/' 

By  HOWARD    C.  HILLEGAS. 

Com  PauPs  People. 

With  Illustrations.      i2mo.     Cloth,  I1.50. 

"He  [the  author]  has  written  a  plain,  straightforward  nar- 
rative of  what  he  himself  saw  and  learned  during  his  recent  visit 
to  South  Africa.  .  .  .  The  only  criticism  of  it  will  be  that 
which  Sam  Weller  passed  on  his  own  love  letter,  that  the  reader 
'will  wish  there  was  more  of  it' — which  is  the  great  art  of 
letter- writing  and  of  book- writing. " — New  York  World. 

**The  first  systematic  and  categorical  exposition  of  the 
merits  of  the  whole  case  and  its  origins  written  by  a  disinterested 
observer.  .  .  .  An  informing  book,  and  a  well-written  one.'' — 
New  York  Mail  and  Express, 

"  Gives  precisely  the  information  necessary  to  those  who 
desire  to  follow  intelligently  the  progress  of  events  at  the  present 
time." — New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

The  Boers  in  War. 

The  True  Story  of  the  Burghers  in  the  Field. 
Elaborately  illustrated  with  Photographs  by  the 
Author  and  Others.  Uniform  with  "  Oom  Paul's 
People."     i2mo.     Cloth,  I1.50. 

"A  book  of  even  wider  interest  than  *  Oom  Paul's  People.* 
A  most  novel  and  curious  account  of  a  military  form  that  has 
never  been  duplicated  in  modern  times  ;  excepdonally  interesting. 
Mr.  Hillegas  has  given  us  beyond  question  the  best  account  yet 
published." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

D.     APPLETON      AND      COMPANY,      NEW     YORK. 


A  NEW  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE^ 
Betsy  Ross. 

A  Romance  of  the  Flag.      By  Chauncey  C.  Hotchkiss,  author 
of  **In  Defiance  of  the  King,"  etc.      i2mo.      Cloth,  ^1.50. 

"Betsy  Ross"  is  a  historical  romance  based  upon  the  story 
of  the  maker  of  the  first  official  American  flag.  Mrs.  Ross  was 
a  charming  young  widow  of  but  little  more  than  twenty-three 
when  she  was  commissioned  to  make  the  flag  fi"om  a  design  sub- 
mitted to  her  by  Washington.  Her  husband  had  been  killed  by 
an  accident  at  the  Philadelphia  arsenal  within  a  few  months  after 
his  marriage. 

The  romance  which  the  author  has  woven  around  the  origin 
of  our  flag  will  quicken  the  pulse  of  every  reader  by  the  wealth  of 
striking  characters  and  dramatic  incidents,  and  the  absorbing  interest 
of  the  plot.  History  has  furnished  a  motive  which  has  been 
curiously  neglected  in  fiction,  and  the  picturesque  figures  of  the 
time,  sea-rangers  and  Quakers,  redcoats  and  Continental  soldiers, 
and  even  Washington  himself,  have  to  do  with  the  development  of 
a  strange  and  thrilling  story  wherein  Betsy  Ross  takes  the  leading 
part.  The  ancient  tavern,  the  home  of  the  Philadelphia  merchant, 
the  flag-maker's  little  shop,  and  the  quaint  and  charming  life  of  the 
time,  are  shown  as  the  background  of  a  series  of  swift  incidents 
which  hold  the  reader's  attention.  "Betsy  Ross"  is  a  book  to 
be  read,  and  the  reader  will  recommend  it. 

The  Betsy  Ross  of  history  was  a  singularly  bright  and  win- 
some woman,  and  intensely  patriotic.  Mr.  Hotchkiss' s  story  has 
been  confined  to  the  romantic  days  of  her  early  womanhood. 
The  house  in  which  the  flag  was  completed,  and  in  and  about 
which  most  of  the  action  of  the  novel  takes  place,  still  stands  on 
Arch  Street,  Philadelphia,  and  the  attempt  to  preserve  it  as  one 
of  the  shrines  connected  with  American  history  is  meeting  with 
deserved  success.  Mrs.  Ross  (afterward  Mrs.  Claypoole)  died 
at  the  great  age  of  ninety-three,  and  her  remains  lie  in  Mount 
Moriah  Cemetery. 

D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW     YORK. 


GREAT  COMMANDERS. 

Edited  by  General  JAMES  GRANT  WILSON. 


This  series  forms  one  of  the  most  notable  collections  of  books  that  ha.s 
been  published  for  many  years.  The  success  it  has  met  with  since  the  first 
volume  was  issued,  and  the  widespread  attention  it  has  attracted,  indicate 
that  it  has  satisfactorily  fulfilled  its  purpose,  viz.,  to  provide  in  a  popular 
form  and  moderate  compass  the  records  of  the  lives  of  men  who  have  been 
conspicuously  eminent  in  the  great  conflicts  that  established  American  in- 
dependence and  maintained  our  national  integrity  and  unity.  Each  biog- 
raphy has  been  written  by  an  author  especially  well  qualified  for  the  task, 
and  the  result  is  not  only  a  series  of  fascinating  stories  of  the  lives  and  deeds 
of  great  men,  but  a  rich  mine  of  valuable  information  for  the  student  of 
American  history  and  biography. 


Each,  J2mo,  cloth,  §filt  top,  $J«50» 

NOW  READY. 

Admiral  Farragtit     -     -     -    -      By  Captain  A.  T.  Mahan,  U.  S.  N. 

General  Taylor By  General  O.  O.  Howard,  U.  S.  A. 

General  Jackson By  James  Parton. 

General  Greene By  General  Francis  V.  Greene. 

General  J.  E»  Johnston     -    -  By  Robert  M.  Hughes,  of  Virginia. 

General  Thomas      -    - By  Henry  Coppee,  LL.  D. 

General  Scott By  General  Marcus  J.  Wright. 

General  Washington     -     -     -      By  General  Bradley  T.  Johnson. 

General  Lee By  General  Fitzhugh  Lee. 

General  Hancock By  General  Francis  A.  Walker. 

General  Sheridan     -----       By  General  Henry  E.  Davies. 

General  Grant By  General  James  Grant  Wilson. 

General  Sherman  -----  By  General  Manning  F.  Force. 
Commodore  Paul  Jones  -  -  -  -  By  Cyrus  Townsend  Brady. 
General  Meade By  Isaac  R.  Pennypacker. 

IN  PREPARATION. 

General  McClellan  ....    - By  General  Peter  S.  Michie. 

Admiral  Porter By  James  R.  Soley,  late  Ass't  Sec'y  U.  S.  Navy^ 

General  Forrest By  Captain  J.  Harvey  Mathes. 


D.    APPLETON     AND    COMPANY,    NEW   YORK 


MR.  BRADY'S  NEW  VOLUME. 

Commodore  Paul  Jones. 

By  Cyrus  Townsend  Brady,  author  of"  Reuben 
James,"  "  For  the  Freedom  of  the  Sea,"  "  The 
Grip  of  Honor,"  etc.  A  new  volume  in  the 
Great  Commanders  Series,  edited  by  General 
James  Grant  Wilson.  With  Photogravure  Por- 
trait and  Maps.      i2mo.     Cloth,  lT.50. 

As  a  writer  upon  naval  life  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
historical  romancer  Mr.  Brady  stands  at  the  head  of  the  Ameri- 
can writers  of  this  generation.  He  is  a  historian  as  well  as  a 
novelist,  and  his  historical  and  biographical  work  has  attracted 
marked  attention  on  account  of  the  knowledge,  the  grasp  of  theme, 
and  the  power  of  sympathetic  discernment  which  he  has  shown. 
A  life  of  Paul  Jones  by  Mr.  Brady  represents  a  peculiarly  feHci- 
tous  union  of  author  and  subject.  There  is  no  more  picturesque 
and  heroic  figure  in  naval  history  than  that  of  the  doughty  litde 
captain  who  fought  and  captured  the  Serapis  when  his  own  ship 
was  sinking  under  him.  His  career  presented  features  which 
have  proved  puzzling  to  many  writers,  and  the  work  which 
Mr.  Brady  has  done  in  clearing  up  his  life,  and  in  presenting  a 
lucid  narrative  enriched  with  extracts  from  Paul  Jones's  more 
important  correspondence,  has  a  peculiar  and  permanent  value. 
Mr.  Brady's  vigorous  style,  his  vivid  imagination,  and  dramatic 
force  are  most  happily  exhibited  in  this  book. 

"Brady's  'Commodore  Jones'  is  incomparably  fine.  Being  the  work  of 
a  scholarly  writer,  it  must  stand  as  the  best  popular  life  yet  available.  The 
book  is  one  to  buy  and  own.  It  is  more  interesting  than  any  novel,  and  better 
written  than  most  histories." — Nautical  Gazette. 

**Mr.  Brady's  book  shows  great  study  and  care,  and  brings  out  many  new 
and  characteristic  incidents  not  hitherto  published." — Neiv  Haven  Palladium. 

"  Has  the  fascination  of  a  romance." — Cleveland  Plain  Dealer. 

**No  better  biographer  than  Mr.  Brady  could  have  been  found  for  the  first 
admiral  of  our  fleet.  The  book  is  good  biography,  but  it  is  also  good  patriotism." 
— Neiv  York  Mail  and  Express. 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  WEST  SERIES. 
The  Story  of  the  Soldier. 

By  General  G.  A.  Forsyth,  U.  S.  A.  (retired).  Illustrated  by 
R.  F.  Zogbaum.  A  new  volume  in  the  Story  of  the  West  Series, 
edited  by  Ripley  Hitchcock.      i  zmo.      Cloth,  $1.50. 

In  the  great  task  of  opening  the  empire  west  of  the  Missouri 
the  American  regular  soldier  has  played  a  part  large  and  heroic, 
but  unknown.  The  purpose  of  this  book  is  to  picture  the  Amer- 
ican soldier  in  the  life  of  exploration,  reconnoissances,  establishing 
posts,  guarding  wagon  trains,  repressing  outbreaks,  or  battling 
with  hostile  Indians,  which  has  been  so  large  a  part  of  the  army's 
active  work  for  a  hundred  years. 

No  romance  can  be  more  suggestive  of  heroic  deeds  than  this 
volume,  which  appears  most  opportunely  at  a  time  when  the 
Regular  Army  is  facing  so  many  and  so  serious  duties  in  both 
hemispheres.  No  one  is  better  entitled  to  write  it  than  the  brave 
officer  who  with  his  little  handful  of  men  held  the  sandspit  in  the 
Arickaree  for  days  against  Roman  Nose  and  his  thousands  of 
warriors,  and  finally  won  their  lives  by  sheer  dogged  pluck  and 
heroism.  Mr.  Zagbaum's  illustrations  are  a  most  valuable  gal- 
lery of  pictures  of  Western  army  life. 

"To  General  Forsyth  belongs  the  credit  of  having  gathered  together  for 
the  first  time  the  story  of  the  heroic  work,  invaluable  to  the  progress  of  our 
civilization,  which  regular  soldiers  performed  in  silence  and  obscurity." — Boston 
Herald. 

"General  Forsyth's  identity  with  the  army  extends  over  a  notable  period 
in  its  history,  and  he  is  among  the  few  officers  who  remain  who  are  able  to 
write  of  their  personal  knowledge  of  the  thrilling  experiences  of  our  soldiers  on 
the  plains." — Washington  Army  and  Navy  Register. 

**The  soldierly  qualities  of  the  author  appear  on  every  page  of  the  volume 
in  a  precision  of  statement,  a  generosity  of  praise,  and  an  urbanity  of  temper. 
The  narrative  is  commended  to  the  interest  and  attention  of  every  student  of 
our  national  life  and  development." — Philadelphia  Ledger. 

** There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  the  book." — Buffalo  Commercial. 

**The  story  presents  a  fresh  and  thrilling  chapter  of  American  history." — 
Cleveland  World. 

D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW    YORK. 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 

or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
BIdg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made 
4  days  prior  to  due  date 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


APR  2  9  2006 


DD20  12M   1-05 


LD  21-100rn-7,'33 


TD   M^uO  I  b 


/iiSr' '"""""' 


/ft 


f 


OOi^    * 


r 


1     u    ,1  run  J  11'  Lui-'Jrr)  • 


